Paragons and God Machines
by T. Scoresby
Summary: Twenty five years after the end of Mass Effect 3 Liara's master plan comes to fruition, the Kepesh-Ardate mercenary company finds themselves a pawn in the games of the powerful and Shepard's asari daughter discovers that just being descended from greatness isn't enough. This is a sequel to Mass Effect Wake.
1. The opening shot

At 2:42 GST the Reaper embassy on Sur'Kesh was destroyed. A tiny thermonuclear charge detonated on the second storey, atomising eighteen synthetic drones and five organic employees. Of the building itself nothing remained.

At 3:07 GST the Reaper collective intelligence known as the Shepherd mobilised it's organic agents. Although no one knew it at the time this attack was the opening shot of the second Krogan rebellion.

The conditions of the Reaper War Armistice prohibited the Shepherd from making overt military deployments, except in the case of mandatory peace keeping actions and even then only with strong supporting evidence. Whoever detonated the bomb had likely been incinerated along with their motives.  
Without official sanction from the council to retaliate the Shepherd was forced to employ mercenaries to do its dirty work.  
Some of those mercenaries where a group known as the Kepesh-Ardate: 'the blade demons.'

The Kepesh-Ardate was founded by Asari soldier of fortune Karla D'mel in the wake of the Reaper War to fill the vacuum of power brought about by the severe casualties sustained by the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack. Although much smaller than any of its competitors the Kepesh-Ardate managed to win out through superior equipment and meticulous battle plans. The fact that they are almost always out numbered earned them instant respect from both their employers and their enemies. It also caught the attention of the Shepherd.  
The mercenaries had fulfilled a small number of contracts with the Reapers over the past ten years and they had enjoyed funding and intelligence perks that rivalled those of the council Spectres while on those missions.

The Shepherd had intentionally made the incentives ridiculously high in hopes of temping new allies but each time anti-Reaper insurgents had wiped out almost everyone willing to accept Reaper money. Among the select group to survive was the Kepesh-Ardate.

 **Sur'Kesh, ground zero.**

A young Asari scurried through the crime scene. Her target was the broad figure of another Asari silhouetted against the harsh chemical lamps the Salarian Disaster Prevention Group had erected around the blast zone.  
Dashing through the holographic police cordon she skirted around two haz-mat wearing Salarians and held out the file she was clutching to her employer.

"Here you are Ma'am."

Karla D'mel turned to face her subordinate, there was an unnerving anger in her left eye. Her right eye as always was hidden behind a cotton eye patch.  
"Thanks Beck." Taking the file she quickly scanned it without apparent interest.

Beck decided to risk her own neck by questioning her boss's plans while she was in a mood. She knew it was a bad idea but curiosity overwhelmed common sense.

"Ms D'mel, if you don't mind me asking why are we here? We where hired to find the terrorists so why are we here at ground zero? We're not forensic experts." Even as she was talking she thought 'why am I saying this, this is dumb.' She tried to stop but the words kept pouring out.

Surprisingly while D'mel still looked livid she didn't turn her aggression on her subordinate. Apparently the rumours that she had mellowed a little over the last decade where true.

"Because I need to see it, to get down on the ground floor, otherwise I can't get pissed about it and I don't except contracts I don't care about. Simple as that."

"And?"

"And it worked. This is messed up. I mean what are these people trying to do? We're still rebuilding from the Reaper war and they want to start a cluster-fuck. This is messed up." Karla suddenly turned away from her assistant as if she had been struck with impulsive inspiration. "I've seen enough. Prep the shuttle."

"Yes ma'am."

Karla immediately marched off through the cordon but Beck held back to get a look at the scene. The DPG had set up shimmering radiation shields around the crater but she could still see the devastation. 'That's one hell of a way to send a message.' She stepped to one side to let two medics pushing a gurney pass. Not a survivor, just a civilian who had seen the blast, wandered too close and been poisoned. Radiation burns scarred the whole of the Salarian's chest and most of his face. 'Overkill.'

"Beck!" Karla was standing past the cordon, hand on hip, she looked even madder than she had a minute ago. "Let's go!"

 **Illium, Nos Astra.**

The Kepesh-Ardate headquarters in the business sector of Nos Astra was packed. There hadn't been anything more than one or two man assignments for almost five months so no one was currently out in the field. All sixty of the full time combat personnel where barracked as where the hundred and seventy support staff. The headquarters itself was situated on the two hundred and first floor of the Gerellie conglomerate building and looked out onto the interior of a high speed skycar tunnel allowing easy access to the city's arterial transport routes via its three hangers.

The D'mel personal shuttle touched down in hanger three and almost the second Karla and Beck left the exit hatch behind them they were swarmed by members of logistics department. Karla batted them off irritably until Beck physically placed herself between the boss and her over eager employees. She gathered up all the datapads and paper printouts that they shoved in her face and soon her arms where over flowing. She only had time for a cursory glance at each but almost all where transcripts of communications from the Shepherd. Whatever was happening must be big for the Reaper supreme intelligence to get so heavily involved, in the few contracts that the Kapesh-Ardate had fulfilled for the Shepherd it had never bothered to communicate beyond its initial message. Looking up Beck realised she had lost track of Karla in the press.

Deafening music (if you could call it that) was blaring from the open door of the officer's staff room, muffling Karla's approach. She grimaced as she barged her way in, shouting to make herself heard. "What the hell is that crap!"

Claire Perry, one of the company's most veteran members, looked up from her lunch without concern. The last two decades had been kind to her, her curly blonde hair was only slightly shot through with grey and the barest hints of crow's feet were starting to gather around her calm brown eyes.  
Of all the lieutenants Claire probably had the closest friendship with Karla, she could see through her bluster.

"Expel 10's anniversary album." Said Claire, idly chasing a strand of carbonara around her plate with her fork.

"I didn't know they were still together." As always Karla's anger was quick to burn itself out, she perched on the edge of the desk and helped herself to a slug of Claire's juice.

"Well the non-Asari members have died but they have a new Turian vocalist who could turn your marrow to jelly."

"That's great and all but I don't care. You hear back from shrub?" Before she departed for Sur'Kesh Karla had asked her lieutenant to contact the aging Salarian, who now headed up D'mel enterprises as a legitimate procurement company to supply the Kepesh-Ardate.

"Yeah give me a sec." With a few swipes on her Omni-tool Claire cancelled the ear splitting playback and scrolled through her messages until she found what she was looking for.

"Here we go: he says he's having some trouble but he should have ordered the new suit barriers by the end of the week; apparently the Alliance doesn't want to share."

Karla visibly relaxed. With those barriers the Kapesh-Ardate would be ready for frontline service again.  
"Good. When you write back tell him to-"

Beck staggered into the lounge, sagging under the weight of all the reports she was carrying, seeing Karla she blurted out: "Boss I've…" She silenced herself when she realised that her boss was still talking. "Sorry."

"-Tell shrub to order one disruptor unit and one polonium per head." Karla finished, swigged down the last of Claire's juice and turning to her assistant. "Yeah Beck what is it?"

"I've sifted through the reports from logistics."

Karla nodded. "Give me the short version."

"We're no closer to learning who the bombers are."

From her place behind the desk Claire laughed lightly. "Wow that was the short version."

Karla seemed less amused.  
"Then why are you bothering me with this?" In answer Beck dumped the paperwork on the desk, fished out a particular datapad and handed it to her employer.

"A human private investigator by the name of Hughie Marshall wants to hire us to do some heavy lifting. Intel ran a check on the perp and apparently his parents were heavily involved in the anti-Reaper riots of 2188. Plus he just got back from Sur'Kesh. It's not much of a lead and it's a chump change job but every little clue helps right?"

Claire hopped to her feet. "I'll do it. The lead is solid." Beck frowned quizzically but Claire waved her off before she could ask the obvious question of how she knew.

"It doesn't matter what the job is to be honest. I'm going stir crazy cooped up in the office all day. I'll read the briefing in the car on the way over." She waited for Karla's nod of approval before snatching the datapad from her fingers and practically skipping out the door.

 _N/B: These first few chapters will be taken up with the the search for the embassy bomber but the story will be moving on to more familiar characters in time, promise._


	2. Resisting arrest

True to her word Claire idly clicked through pages and pages of minute legal pomp as the skycar hurtled along Keelner Boulevard, piloted by one of the companies many FREYJA mechs.  
Apparently this detective, Hughie Marshall, had been on the trail of a serial killer for months and now that he finally had enough evidence to convict he brought the company in to help him make an arrest. In exchange he was offering twenty percent of the twenty thousand credit reward, not bad for the capture of just one guy. Hughie had asked to meet in the Serrice industries plaza. Claire wasn't expecting much trouble from the perp but she didn't pull in such a hefty salary by being frivolous. Leaning forward she pressed her thumb against a small panel under the seat, the skin on her finger prickled as the sensor read her biometrics, after a brief pause it beeped and a hidden compartment popped open. She retrieved a small black handgun (an S90 Mosquito) from inside, inserted an ammunition block, checked the slide and safety then tucked it into the concealed holster in the small of her back.

As the client would want her to be able to get close to the perp without alarming him she had dressed down for the occasion.  
Instead of her usual Kapesh-Ardate hardsuit she wore a green blouse with a large purple scarf draped around her shoulders with only a thin ballistic vest underneath for protection, not nearly enough by Claire's reckoning. Also from the arms locker she retrieved an unassuming shield belt that she buckled securely around her waist, it wasn't anything fancy but it would be enough to stop whatever civilian weapons the killer was using.

 **Serrice plaza**

At this early hour the plaza was mostly deserted save for a few business people huddled together against the winter chill but they mostly stuck to the benches around the peripherals. It was easy, therefore, for Claire to pick out the man she was looking for. The lantern jawed, moustached figure standing by the statue of matriarch Kemeon perfectly matched the copy of Marshall's PI licence that had been included in the file.

Upon spotting her he exhaled what she assumed to be a relieved cloud of breath and jogged over to shake her hand.

"You're from Kapesh-Ardate? Good, good. I've been tearing my hair out waiting for you; he should walk by any minute." Claire suppressed a smirk at the detective's choice of words. He was quite bald.

"Slow down. Your extranet call wasn't specific; I could use some details."

Hughie snarled and stomped his feet breathing out another great cloud, his eyes wide. His reaction was extreme enough that Claire wondered if he was mad.  
"Fine I'll fill you in but quickly. Any minute!"

'Maybe he's just not used to stressful situations.' Thought Claire.

"For seven months now someone has been praying on high ranking business men and woman all over the city. The attacks have been too random for it to be a vendetta against a particular group, it seems like the killer is searching for someone in particular. The only link I could find between victims is the fact that four of the ten dead were indentured servant contract brokers, an escaped slave perhaps? I ran a city wide extranet sweep for indentured servants who had breached their contracts just before the first murder and BINGO!" Claire jumped. "Amon Dervin, ex-Turian military engineer sold himself to pay off his huge debts."

He gave his whole explanation in a single breath. On one hand he did seem a little deranged but on the other he had referred to the killer as an escaped slave and she couldn't help but respect anyone who saw the indentured servitude system for what it was. Not that it mattered, she was on the clock and he was the client that was all that mattered.

After Hughie Marshall's outburst they found seats on a nearby bench and sat in tense silence for twenty long minutes before anything happened. Suddenly he tensed, hissing through clenched teeth.

"There! Dervin." Sure enough there, striding out of the Sirta Foundation building was a scruffy Turian. He wore a hood so it was hard to make out his features. Dervin checked his omnitool briefly, running a hand over his mandibles, before making for the sky taxi depot.

"Let's get after him." Claire muttered. She stood but Marshall seemed to be rooted to the bench, watching his quarry's receding back with a feverish look in his eyes.

"Marshall we don't have time for this. Lets go." Without waiting for an answer she grabbed his arm and began to pursue, half dragging him as she went.

By the time they reached the depot the killer had already climbed into a taxi and jetted off. This seemed to help Marshall get his wits back; he pulled free of Claire's grip and sprinted to the nearest taxi, throwing himself inside. Claire barely managed to slip in after him before the door slammed shut.

"Follow that car!" he yelled in a high pitched voice. The Asari driver turned and raised a sardonic brow then looked at Claire with an expression that seemed to say 'is this guy for real?' She could only shrug.

"Whatever you say boss." Said the Asari, changing gear fluidly and blasting off into the oncoming lane of sky traffic. Claire didn't even have time to be afraid before they were clear and rocketing in pursuit of the other cab.

Their quarry took a meandering route through the city, first weaving through lanes of cargo trucks bound for the space port then cutting onto the main eastern thoroughfare. They flew over a snow covered park and were quickly in a much less opulent part of town. Dervin's cab set him down outside a worn down apartment building.

"Park round the corner." Marshall commanded. "We'll follow him on foot."

"In here?" Asked Marshall, gesticulating down the unlit hallway.

They had laboured up sixteen flights of stairs until they spotted a mail slot labelled 'Dervin 21.'

"Get back." Hissed Claire. Marshall sheepishly obeyed. Drawing her compact matte black pistol she flattened her back against the wall and peered around the corner. Two years ago Dervin had been fined for carrying an unlicensed firearm so there was no harm in being careful.

Like so many other lower rent buildings on Illium this one didn't exactly fit the planets sparkling galactic image. The ceiling was only barely two metres over head, the pitted concrete walls were dripping with condensation and here & there a pile of refuse was heaped against the side.

Keeping her back to the damp surface and holding her gun in a two handed grip she slid along to the door stencilled with the sari symbol for 21. trying to ignore Marshall's bubbling breath behind her Claire tentatively rapped on the door.

"Amon Dervin?" For a few seconds nothing happened then the door slid open a few centimetres to reveal one half of an anxious Turian face. "Yes?"

Claire stepped fully into view (keeping her gun tucked behind her), smiled and flashed her Kapesh-Ardate card faster than he would be able to read it. she hoped it looked official.

"Hi my name is Alice Sherman from the Nos Astra community investment board and I was wondering if you had a few minutes to spare. Maybe answer a few questions?"

Dervin's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Claire's polite smile remained fixed but inwardly her mind was racing, she just needed him to fully open the door.  
"I'm conducting a survey on this residential block and I would really like to know your opinions on local organised crime, inter-species relations that sort of thing. Do you feel safe in your own home?" Dervin looked at her for a full fifteen seconds before fully opening the door.  
Amon Dervin was tall (like most turians) with brown scales and a horizontal red stripe over his eyes. Claire didn't recognise those colony markings. Tatris maybe.

"I guess I could answer a few que-" Before he could finish she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him past her into the corridor, slamming him into the opposite wall.

"What the-" He cut himself off when he saw Claire's gun levelled at his chest. His eyes darted from the barrel of the weapon to Marshall , a flash of recognition passed over his face and he snarled throwing himself at Claire.

The gun cracked, a silenced gunshot reverberating down the hall. Dervin wasn't in the path of the bullet. He had turned his headlong charge into a twisting one hundred and eighty degree kick that let him dodge the shot and sent the Mosquito skittering down the hall.

Claire cursed herself coarsely, of course Dervin could fight all turians spent a minimum of two years in the military.  
The turian lunged again and seeing few alternatives she counter charged. Their bodies met with a solid thump, the finger s of his left hand and her right grappled for control even as she managed to grip his other wrist.

They strained against each other, silent save for the occasional grunt of effort as Marshall watched on from the sidelines. Dervin was wiry and tough, not to mention at least twenty years her junior, but as the seconds crawled by Claire realised with an adrenaline fuelled grimace that she was stronger. Her heartbeat thumping in her ears she shoved him backwards with all her might and threw a right hook at his head.  
The punch caught him off balance and he fell. Taking advantage of the brief opening she turned to Marshall.

"The gun!" The stocky P.I scuttled off as Dervin regained his feet. Claire decided to take page from Karla's book: enrage and undermine.

"Come on Amon you can do better than that. You are getting your arse kicked by an old woman." It wasn't really her style but Karla had been in this line of work for ten times longer than her so the asari must be doing something right. It worked. He lunged yet again but she was ready for him, she lashed out with her left boot catching him just under his chest ridge with the heel, driving the air from his lungs.

"Miss Perry!" Marshall's shout was followed by the sound of metal sliding on concrete. He had found the gun and threw it underhand across the floor towards her.  
She took her eyes off the perp to stoop and retrieve her sidearm and when she looked back he had taken off down the corridor. Raising the gun to take aim she barked a command.

"Stop! I will shoot!" He didn't stop. Claire pulled the trigger and five metres ahead of the fleeing man one of the inert light fixtures exploded. 'A warning shot' she told herself but in truth her hands were trembling with combat shakes. Had it really been that long since she had stepped out from behind her desk and done some actual field work?

As soon as the Perspex casing shattered Dervin dug in his heels, ground to a halt and raised his hands.  
"I give up don't shoot!"

Claire blew out a long breath. It had been messy but they had their suspect.


	3. Outmatched

After a great deal of persuasion Marshall agreed to let the company question Amon Dervin in exchange for their share of the reward.  
Highly illegal of course but you didn't become a private detective on Illium without bending the rules from time to time.  
Normally Karla would have been raging if Claire agreed to give up payment for a job but since this was such a high profile case she was just glad to have a lead.

The hunched, cuffed, figure of Amon Dervin was ushered into Kepesh-Ardate HQ under heavy guard and placed in the small brig at the rear.  
Two members of Claire's own squad stood sentry outside the door.  
Billy Fargo was a massive sniper originally from South Africa.  
Boreal Kazness (a batarian) was the units' close quarters specialist.  
Both of them saluted crisply as Claire and Karla approached.

"Has he said anything?" Asked Karla.

Fargo chuckled. "just the usual: 'I didn't do it, they made me.' blah blah blah."

Kazness winked with two of his eyes. "You want me to go get some sense out of him... empress?"

Karla laughed and punched him on the arm. "Not while we're at work Boreal. Seriously though you two can take a break. We'll hit the alarm if he starts any trouble." She spun on her heel to watch them go with a mischievous glint in her eye. Once they had rounded the corner she glanced at Claire who had an incredulous expression plastered on her face. "What?"

"He called you empress."

Karla shrugged dismissively. "So? It's my call sign."

"Yeah I know but the way he said it..." She shifted uncomfortably. "That's not what he calls you when you're... you know?"

"Why lieutenant Perry! You should know better than to ask questions like that to an innocent girl still in the maiden phase. For shame!" Karla gasped in mock outrage.

Claire wasn't the kind of person to blush so she just changed the subject, unsubtly shifting back to the matter a hand.  
"How do you want to approach Dervin?"

"I dunno. Good cop, bad cop?"

"I'm guessing I'm the good cop."

"We can't both be bad cop." Said Karla with a grin. "Get your game face on."

Amon Dervin was resting his forehead on the interrogation room table but he looked up when the door clicked open and two women slipped in.  
The first was the middle aged blonde human who had attacked him outside his apartment.  
The other was a wide, densely packed asari with purple skin and an eye patch He could instantly tell that she was definitely in charge and definitely dangerous.  
The human stood in the corner of the cell as the threatening asari shrugged off her green leather jacket and hung it on the back of the chair opposite him.  
They stared at each other for thirty seconds before he broke eye contact, causing her to laugh softly through her nose as if she somehow had the measure of him.

"Um shouldn't I be allowed an advocate?"

"Later." Snapped the human sharply.

"But first we have some questions." Added the asari, slipping into the chair. "So Marshall tells me you've been on a little bit of a mission. Ten people in seven months. What were they to you?"

Dervin's pupils dilated and he began to shake slightly.  
"I didn't want them to get hurt!" He squeaked in a reedy voice.

The human arched an eyebrow at this.  
"So it's ten cases of accidental manslaughter then?"

Dervin wrung his hands with a distraught expression twisting his features.  
"I didn't want him to hurt them." He looked up at them, as if coming to a decision. "How much did Marshall tell you about me?"

When neither woman responded he continued anyway, something was clearly weighing heavily on him.  
"I left the military three years ago and quickly racked up a lot of debt. It got so bad that I sold myself to an indentured servant trader on Illium. I used to be an engineer so my skills are in high demand, it was enough to cover what I owed. I had almost worked my time when my 'owner' decided they were amending the terms of my contract. there wasn't anything I could do but then I met who said he could help me disappear. When he asked for a list of names I thought he would talk to them or maybe buy them off. I never thought..."

Both his interrogators spoke at once.  
"How many names?" Asked the asari.  
"What did they want in return?" Asked the human.

"Everyone on the list is dead." Dervin said miserably. "He said he'd be in touch when he wanted to call in his favour. I was beginning to hope he might not collect but then he contacted me last week. He flew me out to Sur'Kesh and had me look at some components. Like I said I'm an engineer, I knew what it was: a bomb. By that time people from the list had already started to go missing, I was scared of him so I told him what he wanted to know. I had no idea what he was going to do with it. I guess everyone does now though." He leaned forward, suddenly bold. "Do you understand what I'm saying? This is bigger than a few dead contract brokers, this guy is a full blown terrorist. I need protection."

The asari sat in silence for a few moments then licked her lips.

"Alright Amon, I could put in a good word for you and get you a witness protection gig. Provided you're not full of shit and provided you tell us about the bomber."

Dervin shrank back from her.  
"I can't! If he would kill ten people just to cover up the fact that we'd talked imagine what he will do to me."

The asari stood up suddenly, causing him to flinch.  
"Not good enough Dervin. All we know about the bomber is that they're male, that's half the galaxy. You don't realise how important this is. Are you even old enough to remember what it was like when we were all at war with the Reapers? I remember, my friend here remembers. I'll do anything to stop that form happening again. Anything. Give me more information and I won't have to."

Dervin was terrified of her but he shook his head stubbornly none the less. She made to step around the table but the human's hand was on her arm, holding her back.  
"Leave me alone with him." Said the asari menacingly.

"Karla no."

She rolled her eyes.  
"Fine you old soft touch, I promise I won't do more than touch him. Now leave that's an order."

The human nodded hesitantly then left the room. As soon as they were alone she grabbed him by the sides of the head and pulled him close.  
"Karla don't!" He yelped instinctively. He was going to say more, to appeal to her morals now that he knew her name, but his breath caught in his throat.

Her eye was black, empty, soulless. She hissed in his ear.  
"Embrace eternity motherfucker."

Claire stood outside the brig for five minutes, doing her best to block out the sounds of distress coming from within. Just when she felt like she could no longer justify sitting by Karla reappeared, her face thunderous.  
"He doesn't know anything useful. the bomber is salarian. That's all. What did you make of him?"

"I think he was telling the truth. I also think we were very lucky he was so eager to talk, it would have been almost impossible to draw a connection between him and the embassy explosion otherwise. What about you?"

"Well Marshall gave him to us until tomorrow, we've got time, I say let him stew. Meantime lets get something to eat, my treat. I'm starving."

Karla, Claire and Fargo spent the rest of the afternoon eating at a restaurant in downtown Nos Astra. They chose a human establishment called 'Paulo's original pizzeria,' Karla having been outvoted two to one.  
By the time they made it back to HQ it was after eight o'clock. They decided to swing by the office and ask Beck to contact Marshall about extending Dervin's stay.

As soon as they set foot in the lobby Karla knew something was wrong. The door didn't wait for key card authorization, it just opened. Someone had tampered with it. She signalled to Claire and Fargo, ushering them into cover on the far side of the hall, before drawing her pistol. They advanced through the offices in fire team formation but encountered nothing, the building was deserted. Karla should have found that comforting, it was after company hours after all, but something was tugging at her gut. A nagging sensation that things were about to get really bad really quickly.

They made it to the officer's lounge without incident. The door to Claire's office was open and the light was on inside. Claire and Fargo took up positions on either side of the doorway as Karla barged in, gun first.  
Initially she thought the room was empty, then she heard the sounds of something moving behind the desk. Cautiously circling the table she saw Beck, hogtied on her belly, wriggling away like an eel out of water.  
Karla knelt down and made to untie her assistant but before she could Fargo called a warning. "Boss!"

There was someone else in the room. Leaning nonchalantly against the wall to the right of the door was a tall grey skinned salarian with unsettling amber eyes. Karla aimed her old Executioner pistol to cover the mysterious figure as the other two hurried in to flank him. The salarian raised his arms lazily, his posture irritatingly unfazed by the guns in his face.

"I'm unarmed."

"Who are you and how the hell did you think breaking in here and assaulting my staff was a good idea?" Karla blustered.

"My name is Jelan Farsar. I am with the office of special tactics and reconnaissance." He let that hang in the air for a few seconds.

"A Spectre?" Asked Claire dumbfounded.

"Yes and to answer your second question I am here to warn you. I find that it is helpful to be reminded that no matter how dangerous you think you are it's never a good idea to rock the boat, you don't want to get the attention of the bigger fish. I'm one of the bigger fish."

"And?" said Karla cautiously.

Jelan shrugged. "And that's it. You now know that the spectres have there eyes on you and not to get in our way, mission accomplished. Oh and our mutual turian friend is coming with me. Now may I go?"

Karla stared at the spectre down the barrel of her gun for a long moment before stepping to one side. "Yeah."

Jelan declined his head slightly then walked past them into the hall.  
"Once I have collected Amon Dervin from your holding cell I'll be on my way. You will find your secretary to be completely unharmed. Good evening Ms. D'mel." With that he turned on his heel and vanished around the corner.

"Boss what you are thinking!" Huffed Fargo. "He threatened us, tied up Beck, are you really going to let that slide?"

"Shut up Billy I'm not stupid, I know when I'm outmatched." Karla sounded weary. "Make yourself useful and go untie Beck."

 _N/B. On an unrelated note I found out yesterday that Claire Perry is the name of the UK transport minister. Weird._


	4. A dream (Amelia's perspective)

Amelia T'soni was running. She knew it was a dream but that did nothing to alleviate the burning in her thighs or the stitch in her side.  
In the dream Amelia was sprinting through a dark forest, or maybe it was a park. Crooked wooden fingers snagged at her clothes as she streaked past.  
She didn't have to look over her shoulder to know that something was chasing her. It was part of the inexplicable nature of dreams. These dreams in particular.  
She ran until her breath came in sharp painful gasps and her legs shook. She ran until she could not take another step.  
Amelia doubled up, panting raggedly, but stopped when she felt a strange tingling beginning to creep up her leg.  
' _I'm on fire_ ' she thought with the kind of detached clarity that one sometimes experiences in dreams. True enough ghostly flames were licking at her ankles. As she watched in vague fascination the tingling spread upwards towards her waist. Just before the fire reached her head and the dream ended Amelia found the nerve to turn and face her pursuer.  
It lurked just beyond the light cast by the flames, leaving it draped in shadow. All she could make out was a vaguely humanoid figure, it's head surrounded by a mane of crackling orange energy.  
It's eyes (like two piercing, numbing, emeralds) bored into her even as the flames painlessly consumed her.

Amelia woke up and lay ramrod stiff in her bed, not daring to move. Sweat so fresh as to be scentless made her pyjama shirt stick to her back. Any other sounds in her room were eclipsed by her heavy breathing and thunderous heartbeat. It took a few minutes until she was calm enough to move. Slipping out from under the covers she ran blindly through the house to her mother's room. The elder T'soni was lying facing away from the door but when Amelia threw herself on the bed she could tell from her breathing that she was awake.

"I had a horrible dream." She whispered.

Liara snaked a hand out and pulled her daughter into a one armed hug.  
"Hm... Tell me all about it." Her voice was distracted not sleepy.

So Amelia went through the events her restless mind had conjured blow by blow, with Liara offering the occasional affirmative noise to show that she was listening. Once she ran out of things to say there was a long pause before Liara spoke.  
"Why don't you get ready for school." Amelia, who had been hoping for some words of comfort, swallowed the lump in her throat and left without a word.

For the first fifteen years of Amelia's life the T'soni family had lived in the enormous manor house formerly belonging to her grandmother Benezia. But when she started school Liara had made the decision to move them to a much smaller apartment barely twenty minutes walk from the matriarch Dilinaga memorial academy for gifted youth, which Amelia had been attending for the last nine years. She had easily past the stringent entry tests but had since failed to distinguish herself. The problem wasn't a shortage of intelligence but a severe lack of self confidence. Like her mother when she was younger Amelia suffered from a degree of shyness that bordered on crippling. Liara had hoped that her daughter would grow out of it as she had, unfortunately this was yet to happen.  
In truth she longed to see her come into her own: she had the intellect and compassion of her mother mixed with the uncanny willpower of her father, when she worked up the courage to use it. She excelled at science right up until second guessing made her fail any timed exam and had shown impressive biotic potential for a girl her age. Potential was the operative word. ' _Amelia is a bright young woman with a large amount of potential. Unfortunately it remains untapped.'_ This sentiment was echoed by most of her teachers.

 **Matriarch Dilinaga memorial academy for gifted youth. Armali. Thessia. 7:58am**

"Draxin, Herris." Called Ms T'lani.

"Here!" Shouted a tall turian boy in the front row.

"Ermin, Faun." The teacher didn't look like she was trying to put a face to the names she was reading; this was just a formality to her. as long as she got every name ticked off she couldn't care less.

A few more names were called out before:

"T'soni, Amelia."

The skinny asari girl sitting in the back row froze, her breath caught in her chest, she was terrified. If she called out her name everyone would look at her but if she didn't then the teacher would make a fuss and draw even more attention.

"H-here." She said softly.

"T'soni?" The teacher asked again. She mustn't have heard.

"Here." Amelia said, a little louder.

Ms. T'lani put both hands flat on the desk in front of her.

"I can't see you. Stand up."

Amelia stood obediently but she had to really try, her limbs were shaking.

"Well tell us your name girl and enunciate, I want to hear your voice carry to the back of the room."

Tears welled in her green eyes and threatened to roll down her freckled cheeks.

"I am Amelia T'soni."

Ms. T'lani nodded approvingly. "Very good, I hope the rest of you will take that as a lesson in proper pronunciation. You may sit."

Amelia felt like vomiting with nerves but she did as she was told. She always did as she was told.


	5. A dream (Liara's perspective)

Liara always woke early these days. She seldom slept for more than five hours but she treasured every moment that allowed her to dream. She usually woke suddenly and today was no exception.  
For several seconds after waking she could feel the phantom sensation of scarred lips lightly brushing her own. Staring up at the darkened ceiling it wasn't hard for her mind to imagine a pair of green eyes looking back at her. Then the moment passed, she rolled onto her shoulder, turned on the light and was awake.

"That's the last time." Liara said aloud.  
Today was a special day, the Project was ready. The culmination of two decades of work was almost within reach. She had received a discreet extranet message from Dr Yrenna (the Project's head scientist) late last night. The doctor had dissuaded her from catching a public shuttle to the scientific outpost on Ilos where the project lab was hidden. She said it would not do to expose themselves at this late stage due to impatience. So Liara had been forced to wait for a private shuttle to be arranged. The waiting had been agonising so she forced herself to get some sleep. Although she was restless she welcomed the chance to 'say goodbye' to her dreams. After today she would not need them.

The door to Liara's room slid open, interrupting her train of thought. Soft footsteps that could only belong to Amelia padded over to the bed. The weight on the mattress shifted as Amelia lay down behind her.  
"I had a horrible dream." She said tremulously. At that moment Liara was reminded of just how young Amelia was: at twenty five she had not yet entered asari adolescence. Liara had never talked down to her so she sometimes forgot that she was still a child. Rolling onto her back she pulled the skinny girl into a tight hug, resting her head on her chest.  
"Tell me all about it."

Based on Amelia's description she had experienced a fairly unremarkable nightmare about being chased by a faceless monster, the kind that every child was likely to have. At appropriate moments she made what she hoped were reassuring noises.  
Yet despite herself her attention started to drift back to the Project. would the reinforced bone structure be too heavy to allow smooth movement? Would the cybernetics break down over time? Had Yrenna solved the digestion issue? Would the biotic nerve bundles require additional conditioning to be effective? Would she still be herself? All these questions and more buzzed around Liara's head until she felt a tight grip on her arm. Amelia was clearly waiting for a reply. Before she could answer she felt a silent vibration from the datapad lying next to her. A message from the shuttle port?  
"Why don't you get ready for school."

Amelia left quietly and as soon as she was gone Liara began flicking through her inbox to find the new email:  
 _A shuttle is waiting for you at Armali spaceport. I could use your help here, the sooner the better._  
 _Y._

Liara dressed and packed in a frenzy, she wrote a note for Amelia telling her that she would be away for a couple of days and that Lelli (an old family friend and former follower of her mother) would be around to look after her until she got back. She could not help but feel a surge of guilt for abandoning her daughter on such short notice but the more she tried to explain the harder this would become. Better that Amelia felt left out, sad though that was. Leaving the house in the capable hands of her security chief Liara travelled to Armali spaceport my skycar, from there it was a four hour shuttle ride to Ilos.

 **Ilos Citadel Council Archaeological Outpost. secret Project lab. 11.33am**

Dr. Yrenna looked as worried as Liara had ever seen her.  
"Is something wrong?" She asked as she swept into the lab in a whirlwind of coat tails. The asari professor rubbed her eyes wearily, her frown crinkling the tightly packed white markings that covered her thin face.

"No nothing. It took a lot of setting up but it is ready. Come with me." She steered Liara through the corridors of the lab to the central chamber. She remembered when they had started the Project here, just shy of twenty five years ago. Where once a tank of nanite laced amniotic fluid had sat in pride of place there was now a large cube (four metres on each side) constructed from reinforced one way glass. Inside the cell was the reason for all of this.

They had grown it from a clone's DNA sample and bonded it with Reaper materiel recovered from the battle of London. Dr. Yrenna, with her flair for the dramatic and fascination with alien mythology, had taken to calling it the homunculus.  
From the outside it was indistinguishable from a living breathing human woman. Exactly five feet nine inches tall with long red hair that had never been cut. This body lacked the musculature of a career soldier that the original had possessed but they had avoided muscle atrophy by electronically stimulating the nerve endings. Liara and Yrenna had spent three years perfecting the Lazarus projects cybernetics so the glowing orange scars were absent.

Aside from these small differences (eyelash for eyelash, freckle for freckle) it was identical to Elizabeth Shepard.


	6. If at first you don't succeed

After the Reaper war and the event that followed Liara had striven to find a way to undo the death of her bondmate, it had been done before after all.

She spent four months in near total dispair then the Shepherd had announced itself to the galaxy. She had been elated. As much as it liked to claim otherwise the Shepherd **was** Elizabeth Shepard. It spoke like her, looked like her and had her memories. Liara saw the truth even if it did not. There had to be a way to recapture that essence. Perhaps ironically the Shepherd had provided the answer: a new and improved version of the Crucible presented to Liara as a contingency. Apparently the new Reaper supreme intelligence didn't trust itself not to revert to the methods of its predecessor.

The idea of how to utilise this gift had been a brain wave. Liara had seen Reapers inhabit organic bodies before, both in person during the geth attack on the citadel and through security footage of the collector colony abductions. Sovereign's reaction to his proxy's death proved that it was more than an extreme form of indoctrination. It had been this theory (that the Crucible could be used to impose and maintain the 'possession state') that had formed the basis of their research. The fluid from the drip would act as a conductor for the rapidly reproducing nanomachines that would conduct the Reaper control signal from Ilos' comm buoy, to the Crucible, to the homunculus. They already knew this was possible, Liara had witnessed the AI EDI become trapped in a host body when her main hub on the Normandy was shut down. They just needed to take that principle and increase the scale by a factor of several thousand.

It only took forty five minutes to prep the homunculus. Three quarters of an hour to round off two decades of work and research, it seemed too easy.

Liara went through the steps on automatic pilot. In it's current state the body was inert, totally brain dead. It was a simple matter for the two asari to manoeuvre it from the rubberised tiles of the cells floor to a freshly wheeled in hospital gurney. Liara brushed a few strands of red hair from the homunculus' forehead and carefully applied half a dozen electrodes to the scalp and a drip to the inner forearm. Once the preparations were finished Liara and Yrenna retreated from the cell. All of the enumerable cables that snaked across the lab converged on a bulky monitor bank on the far side of the glass and it was here that Liara and Yrenna settled in for the long haul. Knowing that Amelia was if not happy then at least safe gave Liara the resolve to make as many attempts as it took to get the project running.

As for Yrenna well, Liara could count the number times she had left Ilos since the projects inception on one hand.  
Doctor Vetae Yrenna had lived and breathed the project for the last twenty five years. That was one of the many reasons tht she had asked for her help, she was known for obsessively throwing herself into one all consuming undertaking at a time. In truth Liara doubted that they would have been able o reach this stage so quickly if not without her.

"Entanglement uplink ready." Yrenna said calmly.

"Carrier solution?" Asked Liara even as her fingers blurred over the keyboard in front of her.

Yrenna had so many buttons on her workstation that it resembled a spacecraft cockpit. She pushed one and a thick grey fluid began flowing through the drip and into the homunculus' wrist.  
"Circulating."

"Then there is only one thing left to do."

As the final step in the activation process Liara unshielded the Crucible. Inside its container adjacent to the cell the unremarkable looking metal sphere began to throb with latent energy. A crackle of electricity passed over the matt surface as it sent a surge through the intervening cables to the electrodes on the homunculus' head. The body bucked and spasmed, its limbs clawing. The estimated download time was two minutes for full sentience but after three the thrashing had not subsided.

Liara and Yrenna looked at one another.  
"Should we..?"

"Maintain the connection." Liara said emphatically. So they sat in nervous silence, waiting to see what would happen. At four minutes to the second it's eyes snapped open. with jerky awkward movements the woman's body lifted itself off the gurney like a marionette. Liara froze afraid that anything, even a thought, might shatter the moment. The asari scientists watched with baited breath as the Shepherd staggered around the cell and stared at the wall. Even though Liara knew it was just looking at it's own reflection from her perspective she was locking eyes with her bondmate for the first time since her death.

She flinched as a dull thud reverberated through the laboratory. Lost in her own world as she had been it took her a minute to find the source.  
There was blood on the glass. Shepherd drew back its head a second time and butted the glass with all its might. Something cracked and it wasn't the wall. The bloodstain spread.

"what is she doing?" Liara panicked.

"How should I know!? We have to turn it off. Any brain damage could set us back years. Hit the isolator."

"No I can't... just let me talk to her."

Yrenna scoffed and reached for the switch but Liara caught her wrist. The older asari's eyes narrowed to inscrutable slits.

"T'soni listen to me; this can still work but not if our work is splattered all over the room. Clear the board and let's retry."

The Shepherd used Liara's indecision to ramp up its frantic self harm. It smashed its head off the mirrored surface with a frightening manic energy. The cracking sound became a bony crunch and then a wet thud. As it prepared for yet another strike Liara made up her mind. She removed the safety cover and flipped the switch. The thrumming from the Crucible died away and the Shepherd abruptly collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Liara entered the cell in a haze and knelt beside its crumpled form. Blood matted the hair and ran back over the skull, staining the normally ginger tresses a deep crimson. The nose was broken and the skin of the forehead had split. In short she looked a mess.

"Minor damage from what I can tell. It could have been much worse." Said Yrenna, hidden by the cells mirrored walls.

Shaking suppressed adrenaline Liara slid one arm under the homunculus shoulders and with the other she cradled its head.  
Looking up she met her own wide eyes. Surely it wasn't supposed to happen like this.


	7. A humbling experience

The Shepherd was afloat in a sea of information:

-A 32.6% increase in troop movements within the krogan DMZ. Krogan clans preparing for war?

-Twelve Spectre agents recalled to citadel space from the Terminus systems. The council looking to secure their territory?

-19% decrease in shadow broker comm traffic. Liara distracted?

Reaper consciousnesses whispered all of this and more from the furthest edges of the mindscape. When viewed from 'eye level' this morass of fragmented knowledge was indecipherable but each piece formed part of a living info-map of the milky way in the Shepherd's minds eye. With slight shift in focus it could clearly make out a pattern. A monumental flow of light seeping from the distant spiral arms to the galaxy's southwestern quadrant. that meant asari and krogan space, not to mention close proximity to the home worlds of almost every citadel species. Something had been brewing under the surface for months now but today was different.

With a gentle but firm pulse of thought-form the Shepherd nudged aside a jumbled data cloud to get to the source of the disturbance. Something was high jacking a series of comm buoys in a grid pattern around the galactic core, one in range of each of the primary mass relays. The signal rogue buoys were transmitting was strangely familiar.

At the center of the web of Reaper minds that made up the mindscape the nucleus of energy that was the Shepherd shifted fitfully and tuned into the signal. After all what could challenge the Shepherd. Later, once all was said and done, it would look back on the arrogance of this thought with bitter scorn. This was the moment when everything had gone wrong. After twenty five years of religiously following the morals detailed in Shepard's memories this split second decision was where it finally went astray. Up until then it had at least been under the illusion that it was doing the right thing. But now...

 _'What could challenge a god.'_

There was no way of knowing where this voice came from but it knew just what it was. A very human ego bloated by the obedience of billions of minds.

It was galling that such a seemingly innocuous act as listening to an open broadcast could spell disaster after so long rigorously following Shepard's doctrine of duty and self sacrifice.  
 _'A god._ ' Just as the thought crossed the front of the Shepherd's digital brain the signal took effect. Whatever it was bypassed every defensive countermeasure as if they weren't even there. The Shepherd was being hacked. The sheer impossibility of that notion slowed it's response just long enough for the virus to take effect. Acting without any control over itself the Shepherd began to be dragged down through the lower reaches of the mindscape towards the physical world. After more than two decades dwelling on a plane that existed both as each individual Reaper and all of them being tied down and personified was agonizing. It was like trying to fit the atmosphere of a planet into a small room.  
As it plummeted the Shepherd reached out to the other Reaper consciousnesses, commanding them to help, they just tittered with amusement and flew out of range. Before the immense pressure crushed the life from it's mind the Shepherd could just make out Harbinger's roar of truimph.

For the first four minutes the sensations were too much to take in. All it could do to slow the tidal wave of feelings from it's new nerve endings was focus on the count.

23, 24: constricting muscles draw oxygen into the lungs.

50, 51: skin cells shedding and new ones being regenerated.

99, 100: photons bombarding the optic nerve.

167, 168: tendons tightening painfully.

213, 214: vertebra flexing and grinding together.

240: clarity.

It was in a room. No that was wrong. This was a cell not a room and the Shepherd was not an it. She was a she, a human woman.

Lying flat on her back Shepherd was able to see herself in the mirrored ceiling. A clumsy swing of her new legs brought her to her feet. For the first few steps she thought she was going to fall but the reflex was still there. She shambled around to the reflective wall and soaked in her new face, or to be more accurate her old face.

A curtain of red hair, longer than she remembered, hung over half her face covering one of her dark green eyes. Her strong jaw clenched hard enough to make her teeth squeak.

Before the Shepherd could even begin to process the bizarrness of this surreal situation another feeling prickled at the base her skull. The constant buzzing connection to the mindscape was fading. Without the ability to call upon the thoughts and memories of the Reapers (however hostile) the world seemed unbearably dull and quiet. Confusion quickly gave way to panic.

'They're trying to make me into her.' A cold certainty slipped into Shepherd's gut.

'I wont let them. I'm not Shepard.' She saw a determination in her eye that she didn't quite feel. The pain of the first blow took her completely by surprise. It was a brand new, overpowering sensation. Gritting her teeth even further she tried again.

After the third strike she began to wonder if there was a better way to go about regaining her freedom but could think of nothing that was quick enough. Even now the whispers from the mindscape were almost inaudible. It was a struggle but by sheer concentration Shepherd managed to call to mind the impersonal state of being she had previously occupied, rationalizing the pain. She could feel her hold on consciousness slipping and pulled back her head for what she hoped was the final hit. Before it could land nothingness swept in and reasserted itself.

Shepherd had no idea what had just happened but she was deeply grateful for it. A quick internal chronometer check put the length of her absence at six minutes and thirty six seconds. Already dozens of Reapers had begun to creep cautiously out of position, free from direct control for the first time in decades. As soon as Shepherd returned to the mindscape Harbinger's searing digital image floated up to her. Reapers didn't speak outside the the physical plane but she could understand it's meaning as easily as if she was reading it's thoughts.

'You are changed. Weaker.' As it spoke Harbinger extended plying tentrils of thought-form to test the edges of Shepherd's defenses.

'If you think so then act.' She sent back, fighting the urge to retaliate. That would show fear. So instead she waited until Harbinger, finding no weak link in her virtual armour, desolved the tendrils and began to back down. As it retreated it sent a parting shot:

'You may still have your stolen strength but if you are unchanged why do you wear your old face?'

With a single impulse Shepherd was looking from the perspective of a dozen Reapers around her. True enough her digital form had changed to a human woman with red hair and green eyes.

Enough was enough. For too long the Reaper supreme intelligence had tip toed around its problems, acting through intermediaries like the Kapesh-Ardate mercenaries. Attacking Reaper drones on Sur'Kesh was one thing but to invade the sanctity of her mind and body was too far. The time had come to be proactive, to find out who the would be kidnappers were and what they had done to her.


	8. Interlude: unilateral strike

It was a tense week at the Kapesh-Ardate headquarters. The officers had the rank and file running daily scramble drills since the spectre had breached their security. Director D'mel had been seen stalking the corridors snapping at anyone unlucky enough to cross her path. For people not part of her inner circle the only thing to do was hunker down and wait for the storm to pass.

Lieutenant Martin Ferrier (of drone and mech control) slinked through HQ, pausing to peer around each corner. He hurried into the officers lounge and flinched when he saw the someone else was in the room.  
Flight commander Alex Griffith looked up from her book and pursed her lips. Ferrier was widely disliked by the female faculty.  
"Whats eating you Martin?" She asked in a bored tone.

Now that he was safely in the lounge Ferrier resumed his usual cocky stance.  
"Nothing now. I managed to get all the way from the lobby without getting spotted."

"So?"

"So Vernus asked the director how she was doing and she nearly bit his head off."

Alex closed her book with a thump and rolled her eyes.  
"You went to all that trouble just to avoid the boss? Thats pretty self centered even for you. She's mad at Vernus someone broke into the office and waltzed off with her only lead in the Sur'kesh bombing case, he was on security duty that night. In retaliation she sent teams against three anti-Reaper groups in hopes of scaring up new clues. Vernus lead one of those teams and came up empty handed again. D'mel is pissed of at him for messing up, she has no reason to be angry at you."

"That's one explanation. Do you know what I think?"

Alex never smiled but the sardonic look in her eyes was unmistakable.  
"Martin I swear to god if you are about to make a comment about penis envy or periods I will make it my mission in life to make sure you never get a date again. Don't forget I was at last years Christmas party too, I've got some very embarrassing pictures stored away."

His face paled. "Fine, I won't say anything if you don't."

"I shouldn't have to blackmail you not to say sexist stuff Martin."

He got the look in his eye that meant he had just thought up a witty come back but before he could speak Alex sprang to her feet and threw up a smart salute. "Director."

Martin froze, he knew were he stood with the Kapesh-Ardates moody leader. If anyone else in the company could handle a mech half as well as him he would be out for sure.

"You're not in the Alliance anymore Griffith, you don't need to salute when you are off duty." Came Karla's voice from the doorway behind him. Much to his relief she breezed past him without comment, trailed by Beck. The young asari PA had changed in the last few days. As promised the spectre had inflicted no more injury on her than slightly rope burned wrists but since then she seemed a little less willing to make eye contact and a little more likely to jump at loud noises.

"Um ms D'mel..." Beck squeaked but Karla overrode her.

"Hey Alex what's the name of the turian band thats topping the charts at the moment? Its been driving me crazy."

Alex, who was always quick off the mark with musical trivia, spoke up eagerly.  
"They're called Marrow March and their new album is actually a bunch of covers of an ancient human album called 'back in black.' Little known fact: the meaning of the name Marrow March is slightly lost in translation, turians believe that spirits of valour can reside in the bones of the dead. Marrow March is also slang for a funeral procession."

Karla smiled cheekily.  
"Wow you and Claire should swap notes."

"Actually ma'am about lieutenant Perry..." Beck tried again.

"What about her?"

"She's back."

"Thank the goddess. Tell me she didn't fuck up like Vernus."

"I'm not sure ma'am. She asked me to give you the mission report while she hasd her wounds looked at." That got Karla's attention. She grabbed the report from Beck's hand and set off for the infirmary, reading as she walked, scattering employees in her wake.

Kapesh-Ardate mission report. Operation: Riposte [stage 3]

Objective: breach the fortified compound of militant anti-Reaper group Darwin's Line & recover any evidence connecting them to the Sur'Kesh bombing.

Assigned operatives: squad 2 [ Lieutenant Claire Perry: Swan, Billy Fargo: Capetown, Boreal Kazness: Oculi, Irenni: Dancer]

Combat log:

13.00.00- Operation begins. Compound alarms disabled remotely.

13.00.08- Operative Capetown executes head shot on perimeter guard. Casualty.

13.00.43- Operaives Oculi & Dancer engage hostiles at front gate.

13.02.13- Engagement concluded. 6 enemy casualties.

13.05.00- Operative Oculi detonates shaped charges, overcoming manual lock down on main door. Drone sweep reveals hostiles digging in at the main hall.

13.07.00- Squad 2 enters compound.

13.10.20- Squad 2 reaches main hall. Lieutenant Swan attempts at negotiation fail.

13.10.24- Lieutenant Swan deploys flashbang grenades.

13.10.27- Ally wounded. Lieutenant Swan takes a round in the arm. Operatives Dancer, Oculi & Capetown engage.

13.21.11- Operative Dancer disables compound leader's biotics allowing capture by lieutenant Swan.

13.22.52- Engagement concluded. 19 enemy casualties. All operatives receive minor wounds.

13.29.35- Squad 2 returns to base with prisoner. Operation concluded within acceptable time frame. Local law enforcement on the scene 12 minutes later.

Total operation runtime 29 minute[s] 35 second[s]

Being a much faster walker than she was a reader Karla reached the infirmary roughly halfway though the report and hovered outside until she finished. Beck caught up just in time to catch the datapad as Karla flicked it her way and entered the harshly lit medical section. Squad 2 was lined up sitting in a row on the beds nearest the door, they were the only ones there.

"where is the doc?" Karla asked.

"He went into the back room to get a syringe. Kazness needs a tetanus jab." Billy chortled.

On her way to Claire's bed at the end she stopped to peck the batarian on the cheek. "You get a splinter honey?"

Boreal scowled. "One of the militants bit me." Karla's hearty, unabashed laughter bounced off the walls. she moved on to Claire without further comment.

"You don't look too bad for someone who just took a bullet. Update please." The human lieutenants face was slack and colourless, her hair slicked back with sweat. Karla was putting a brave face on it.

"The compound leader was a big bruiser called Matthew Donahue. Apparently he'd been fighting the Reapers since the war, for religious reasons, a real hard liner." Claire's Australian accent was becoming more pronounced as it usually did when she was stressed or upset. Not that you could tell, outside she remained impassive.

"In the gunship on the way back to the spaceport he said that 'god would have to forgive him a great sin in the name of preventing another.' Then he overpowered Irenni and used her knife to cut his own throat." Her matter of fact tone made Karla uneasy.

"I don't get it. Why would he do that?"

"Donahue was catholic. Thats a human religion." She added for the aliens present. "They believe that suicide is an unforgivable waste of gods gifts. But clearly thought the result would be worse if he talked."

Karla often deferred to Claire on such matters. There were other members of the company with law enforcement experience but since human terrorism was her specialty it made the most sense to ask her.  
"So how does this fit into the bigger picture?"

"I would say it's unlikely he was directly linked with this 'spectre conspiracy' but he clearly had something to hide in order to do something so desperate. Having said that someone went to a lot of effort with Dervin to make it look like a civilian organisation was responsible for the bombing, someone who wouldn't have access to their own explosives experts. If it was me I'd get rid of Dervin then plant a trail back to a group like Donahue's. A known radical cell getting busted for the attack would tie the case up in a neat little bow."

Karla crossed her arms and frowned, thinking hard.  
"So what do we do now? Donahue didn't say anything."

"I don't know what we can do other than wait for events to unfold at this point. Either Darwin's Line were totally unrelated or they are minions of someone manipulating the galactic political landscape, someone much smarter than me. Then there is the matter of the spectre (Farsar?). Is he just pursuing his own investigation and doesn't want us getting in the way or is he a rogue using intermediaries like Dervin to carry out his plan."

Karla nodded thoughtfully.  
"Or he could be acting on council orders, organizing the attacks then trying to keep the blame away from his bosses."

Claire shivered though whether from the thought of a renewed Reaper war of from blood loss she was not sure.

"It's a tangled web Karla and we can only see a couple of strands at the moment. we know from Dervin that the bomber was salarian but that doesn't necessarily mean the spectre. It did happen on the salarian home world after all. It could just be..." She trailed off mid sentence. Karla could see how tired she was, the wound had really knocked the wind from her sails.

"Alright final thing then I'll let you get yourself sorted out. If you were a scheming bastard trying to escalate organic-Reaper aggression, start another war, where would you go next?"

Claire rubbed her eyes hard as if trying to dislodge a years worth of dust.  
"That's easy. If you couldn't get the council to declare war you just provoke the Krogan."


	9. Attempted regicide (part 1)

In a rare moment of sentimentality Urdnot Wrex thought how the more things changed the more they stayed the same. Despite the ups and downs of the last twenty years the krogan had come out ahead. Formerly a dying race on the edge of exile they were now poised to overtake the turians as the species with the most troops guarding council space. Other than that the status quo remained remarkably unchanged; clan Urdnot still dominated clan politics and Wrex was still ruler of Urdnot. The thought brought a low rumbling chuckle to his throat.

"Clan chief?" Asked Urdnot Grunt. The young warrior had been Wrex's honorary bodyguard for six years now, long enough to have an insight into his chief's thoughts, to know when he wanted to talk.

"Kurnak durgar rubom." Said Wrex then, seeing Grunt's confusion, added: "It's a phrase from back when krogan had kings instead of chiefs and warlords. Literally it means ' _to be king is to sire many children_ ' but I always prefered the shamans translation: ' _there is nothing sweeter than a life lived in victory_.' It's good to be the king."

Grunt gave a deep laugh of his own.  
"Now you're quoting poetry in your old age Wrex? You are lucky you're as tough as you think you are or I think some of the other clans would try to have you assassinated for that alone."

They laughed together for a couple of minutes then sighed as the boredom of their circumstances sank in.  
They were standing next to a colossal eight-wheeler truck parked in the lee of a small hill overlooking the entrance to the biggest mine under Urdnot control. Urdnot Bakara (shaman of the female portion of the clan and mother to many of Wrex's children) had suggested that it would be a good idea for Wrex to be seen inspecting the source of Urdnot's mineral wealth. So for that reason he and Grunt had been standing there for the last hour and a half as hundreds of flatbeds, deep haulers and tunnel skiffs crawled slowly by. Each vehicle had a large 'X' spray painted on it's hull to show the type of cargo it carried: red for iron, green for copper, black for uranium ore and very occasionally blue of unprocessed element zero.

At first Wrex had made the effort, waving energetically as the procession filed past and in return they blew their horns and flashed their hazard lights. It was deafening. Some of the krogan miners lent dangerously out of the cabins of their trucks to get a glimpse of the legendary clan chief, the man who had cured the genophage, united the krogan and made them a force the galaxy could not ignore.

Unfortunately the novelty wore off almost exactly as his waving arm began to cramp up.  
"You think we've seen enough trucks hauling piles of dirt for one day?" Grunt asked transparently. Wrex nodded eagerly.

"I need a drink, ryncol neat." They began walking back to the eight-wheeler, Grunt complaining the whole way.

"Good because if that goes on any longer I might have to-" Something behind them exploded.

The two krogan scrambled back to the lip of the hill to see the convoy in uproar. Dozens of vehicles up and down the line where ablaze. Wrex noticed that not one of them had a blue X, only guards had been hit. If the enemy had wanted to cripple Urdnot they would have destroyed their resources. This was a takeover. Even as his racing mind was processing this revelation his eyes where scanning the chaos below for krogan in the colours of Ravanor or Jurdon. Wrex was just reaching for the shotgun stowed at the small of his back when two shots slammed into his chest piercing his armours shields. With the wind thoroughly knocked out of him he tipped over the edge, tumbling end over end down the dusty slope. Next to him Grunt was hit three times, he chortled through a mouthful of blood and flung himself after the clan chief.

Despite his wounds Wrex rolled to his feet at the bottom of the hill, weapon at the ready. A few seconds later Grunt came crashing down behind him. The younger krogan was slower to rise. Wrex's chestplate had stopped the shots that came his way but Grunt had suffered deep gouges to his shoulder, neck and temple. Wrex was about to offer his bodyguard a helping hand when a krogan soldier in Urdnot colours rounded the gutted corpse of a bulky iron hauler to their right.

"We're under attack! Go and rally any men you can find, bring them here."

The helmeted guard looked from Wrex to Grunt then brought up his gun. Unluckily for him Wrex's nerves were already on a hair trigger. A blast from his shotgun caught him in the stomach an instant before Grunt ploughed into him and caved his faceplate in with a single punch.

"What... is going on?" Grunt panted.

The next half hour was a blur. Wrex was forced to gun down eight Urdnot soldiers that raised their weapons to him. During the split second between spotting each other and opening fire there was a tense moment while Wrex held out hope that at least some of his men where loyal. It was a costly attitude that meant the traitors invariably got the first shot off.

Both Wrex and Grunt weighed almost half a ton when fully armoured and where hardly nimble. That made it impossible for the pair to return to their truck up the loose scree slope they had fallen down. The only alternative was to fight through the ruined convoy then double back up the exposed ridge of the hill. By the time they reached the truck they were under fire from dozens of different sources and both of them were bleeding freely. If not for the roiling column of smoke rising from the flaming vehicles Wrex was sure they would have been picked off before now.

The truck was tantalisingly close when Grunt, standing protectively between the enemy and his clan chief, took the worst hit yet. A round from some kind of flechette launcher overwhelmed his shields and pierced his lower back near the spine. For any other species this would have been instant death or at best paralysis. Luckily for the genetically modified krogan the dermal plates covering his back where thick enough that the cruel metal barb ran out of momentum before it penetrated even an inch. Grunt stumbled but limped on.

After thirty minutes that felt like an age they had finally reached their goal. Wrex hauled his ailing bodyguard up into the cabin next to him, revved the engine then sped off down the valley crushing soldiers under his wheels as they went.


	10. Attempted regicide (part 2)

They drove in silence, Grunt dipping in and out of consciousness even as Wrex seethed away to himself. Once they were safely out of the valley he pulled over and did his best for Grunt, yanking out the flechette and covering his various wounds with medi-gel. Now that Grunt wasn't about to bleed out on the cabin floor Wrex could let his mind wander during the three hour drive to Urdnot city; the settlement that had sprung up around the clan's former camp.

Someone high up in clan Urdnot's power structure was making a grab for the title of chief. The strange thing was that challenging a leader as popular as Wrex required a very specific mix of ambition and stupidity that he had been careful to eliminate from his inner circle since Wreav's death. So assuming that was true who did that leave? A rival clan could have stolen Urdnot armour and infiltrated the convoy but why bother, why not just attack? Wrex was starting to feel unpleasantly like somebodies pawn. It was not a feeling he was used to or willing to tolerate.

He shied away from the main gates once he reached Urdnot partly out of practicality and partly out of unwillingness to place the near constant influx of women and children in danger. The last thing he wanted was a firefight in the middle of the checkpoint. So he carefully steered around the colossal walls of the city. Seventy feet of reinforced concrete covered with steel plating and protected by geo-thermically powered mass effect fields, the walls were quite simply the most advanced structure the krogan had built in over a thousand years. They were a symbol of the new age and a safe haven free from the violence of inter-clan fighting.

Wrex needn't have worried about running into more trouble, the cargo entrance that he steered towards had two guards and no work crew. When they spotted that it was him behind the wheel they radioed for the field to be lowered then ushered him through. Once inside he dismounted and scared up an escort and a medic for Grunt. Ignoring the medic's protests he insisted Grunt be treated on the move. He wasn't about to let him out of his sight until he knew exactly what was going on. So he set off trailing the two guards (who's names Wrex had been careful to double check), the medic and the medic's assistant supporting Grunt.  
They wound their way through the narrow streets flanked on both sides by squat concrete buildings. Curious faces peered out at them as they swept by, Wrex kept his weapon close. Their destination was a fortress that served both as Urdnot's seat of government and military heart. It was easily the tallest building in town and could even be seen over the walls. This mighty structure (nicknamed 'the Plate' because it shared the same basic shape as the protrusions all krogan possessed) acted as their compass needle guiding them through the winding maze. The entrance to the Plate had been built to Wrex's specifications: wide enough for two krogan to pass comfortably shoulder to shoulder but not wide enough to allow anything else past. From this position a dozen men (two battlemasters at the door and ten soldiers manning the gun slits on either side) could turn back an army.

Not today however. Today there was only a single human male, clad from neck to toe in a form fitting black hardsuit that made him look like a spiny beetle. He practically screamed dangerous maverick. Seeing their little group approaching the man whispered something under his breath, probably into a hidden earpiece, then smiled broadly and waved. He pulled up short as Wrex brought his shotgun to bear.

"Who the hell are you? Where are my guards?"

"Pax clan chief. Peace. I am Chester Hamilton, spectre. Your men went inside, after confiscating my weapons of course." He made to take a step forward maybe to shake hands but stopped again when Wrex shifted his aim from his chest to the tip of his black widows peak.

"Not sure I like the idea of the council's favorite attack varen turning up unannounced." He growled, adding his best death stare for good measure. Hamilton seemed like he wanted to to say something but reconsidered, seeing the look in his crimson eyes.

"Why are you here?"

The man gestured to the small entourage gathered behind them.  
"I believe you ran into a smidgen of trouble during your scheduled inspection of your holdings. I'm afraid I may have been indirectly and unintentionally responsible. You see I came here to inform you of a coming change in the status quo that I thought you might appreciate but as my bad luck would have it you were otherwise engaged. I relayed my news to your advisers and well... You can see the result. I apologise truly and utterly."

Wrex chuckled at the humans flowery speech but kept his aim steady, he wasn't about to drop his guard around a spectre, no matter how theatrical he might be.  
"Is that so? Well I guess you had better tell me about this 'coming change in the status quo' then."

Hamiltion made a pained expression.  
"Unfortunately I feel like that would be an exceedingly poor choice. Presumptuous request: humour me and wait until we are away from prying ears. Inside perhaps?"

"Fine. You first."

As they followed the spectre through the low ceilinged halls of the Plate Wrex could feel his unease building, he was ready to put a heat sinks worth of ballistic material through the back of the humans skull at the smallest provocation. The man remained (or pretended to be) completely oblivious to the nervous tension that hung thick in the air.

"I wonder: is this truly krogan architectural taste at work or has it been that long since the age of the ancients that you aim for pure practicality. This place looks more like a bunker than a parliament."

"Shut up! It's in here."

The Urdnot throne room was a relatively modest circular chamber with room for Wrex's throne, a few advisers and perhaps four or five supplicants, just another tactic against assassination.  
The room was almost full of prominent members of the clan, Wrex picked out chief scout and the lord high researcher among them. Above the din of overlapping voices could be heard the distinctive bellow of the Urdnot shaman. Wrex's heart sank when he saw the old krogan. He was sitting on the throne. That meant one of two things: a dead clan leader (obviously not the case) or a leadership challenge had been issued. In either case the shaman was entitled to step in as a temporary steward until the dispute was settled. As Wrex stomped into the chamber the shaman stood to vacate his seat.

"The clan chief had returned!" He roared. Wrex bowed his head respectfully for the introduction then turned to address the room.

"Well? I'm still alive, surprised? Maybe some of you have something to say to me." He kept turning to look each of the krogan in the eye. The shaman was the first to reply.

"Urdnot Shaarok declared a challenge in your absence."

Shaarok. One of the last of Urdnot's old guard. Before Wrex had returned to Tuchanka and twisted the clan towards his vision for the krogan Shaarok had been the popular choice for clan leader. Luckily for him he had been smart enough to toe the line but his old fashioned ideals of conquest through violence alone had never sat entirely right with Wrex. If he didn't need the old man's blood ties to smooth relations with the other clans he would probably have dealt with him years ago. Now he would pay the price for that, there was nothing left to do but dance the dance.

"So this is what we can expect from clan leadership in the future: send fools to do your dirty work then grab for power when you think your enemy is already dead?" Wrex forced out a massive laugh for effect. That was enough to prick his rival's ride, as he knew it would.

"Those men were rogue Wrex and you know it!" The small crowd parted so Wrex and Shaarok could stand face to face. He had a cobalt blue head plate and eyes and wore his heavy armour like a second skin. Though a century Wrex's senior but still powerfully built.

"Oh do I?"

"After the spectre's news I knew I had to take action but not like this. You are right, if I had done the things you say I would make a poor chief. This must be done right. An honour duel."

Wrex ignored the challenge for now, playing for time, he needed the whole picture and only one person here seemed to have it: the spectre.  
"What did you tell my warriors that was so convincing that it caused them to try and kill their chief Hamilton?"

"The Reapers are weakening." He said simply. "For the first time the Shepherd is loosing its grip."

Shaarok picked up where the human left off, talking as much to the crowd as Wrex.  
"The entire galaxy has been under foreign occupation for decades, if there is even a sliver of a chance at freedom we owe it to the krogan people to act. But you have made your position on the Reapers clear, has that changed?"

Wrex considered the question for a long moment. Did he want to throw his people back into galactic war just as they were begining to claw back their heritage?

"No." He said eventually then poked a gauntleted finger at Hamilton. "And even if I had I wouldn't believe his word. His kind are varen in pijaks skin, I only ever met one that was worth a damn."

Hamilton bowed his head at that.  
"I cannot deny that I owe the late great commander Shepard an indirect debt for pioneering my species in the spectres. I assure you that my intentions are no less noble. You know how we spectres typically work clan chief, it would have been easy for me to stay away, to play the part of the manipulator or puppet master if you will. I had hoped that by coming here I might convince you that I am merely a herald of truth. The krogan collectively have the finest fighting force in the galaxy, one not bound by the Reaper war armistice. This puts you in the perfect position to effect change."

Shaarok cut in before he could continue.  
"He won't but I will. You're too comfortable in captivity Wrex, you should have been born a quarian."

Wrex growled and lowered his head plate.  
"I accept your challenge." Then to the rest of the room: "The fact that some of you were willing to try and kill me over this proves how important this issue is. I promise that once I've taught this old man some humility we'll talk."

Shaarok smiled harshly.  
"You are popular Wrex and a strong fighter but you're not quite the hero king you think you are." This sent an involuntary shiver down Wrex's spine. Had he been listening to his comments at the mine? He wrote it off as a coincidence.

The shaman began shuffling in a rough circle around the chamber drawing a chalk line on the floor as he went, everyone else stood to the edges. Shaarok was doing his best to stare Wrex down when Hamilton stepped between them and extended a hand.

"Best of luck clan chief. I honestly believe that you are the best person to see us through this transition." Wrex shook warily and grunted. He was under no illusions, this was exactly what the spectre wanted. He held Wrex's burning gaze and squeezed his hand hard enough to make his fingers go numb, no mean feat.

"Heh." Wrex snorted to himself as he looked back to Shaarok. His rival was almost out of his armour, dressed only in a tight mesh base layer.

"I know tradition is your thing but I don't think anyone would object if we fought fully armoured."

"No. We do it right or not at all."

Wrex sighed, tried to shake some feeling back into his hand, then started pulling off his own armour. In short order they were both stripped down to their undergarments and facing off across the circle. The shaman administered the words of the challenge.

"Standing before you are two potentials. Both think they have what it takes to lead the krogan. Both are strong and possess wisdom scraped from the jawbones of their enemies. Both would make acceptable clan leaders. After today there will be only one. All of the loser's potential, strength and wisdom will be a sacrifice to make the krogan great. Let the true chief step forth." Wrex knew it was part of the rite but his blood still boiled as Shaarok moved forward.

The rules of an unarmed krogan honour duel were simple: arms were for gripping and throwing not punching, legs were for unbalancing the opponent and hooking their limbs. The only way to directly strike the enemy was to headbutt them. The last man in the circle was declared the winner.

They placed a hand on each others shoulder and another the base of their opponents neck then began.  
It started well: with a groan Wrex half turned and hefted Shaarok over his shoulder, smashing the old man flat on his back. As he tried to rise Wrex did his best to regain his breath, he was panting hard, too hard. Something was wrong. The numbness in his hand had spread to the whole arm, a cold nothingness slowly replacing the burning of his muscles. He looked up past Shaarok's struggling form and locked eyes with Hamilton, the human smiled genially.

"You son of a bitch!" Wrex roared and dove for him. Shaarok was there first, driving an elbow into his sternum that made him step back rapidly to avoid falling. He had been poisoned he was sure, the area where he had been struck was now completely devoid of feeling. Now robbed of one arm and unable to draw breath Wrex knew he would have to fight smart and not with his usual reliance on brute force. Shaarok tried for a one legged sweep but Wrex caught his leg and tripped him with his own. They both went down in a heap. Wrex managed to sneak in three punches before he was thrown off but the strength seemed to have been stolen from his limbs. But that didn't stop him from trying again. And again. And again. Eventually after the umpteenth time of being knocked on his rear all Wrex could do was look up at Shaarok through one swollen eye with a look of pure impotent rage. My now he could barely move and he had to fight to get even a gasp of air into his lungs.

"I must say I'm disappointed Wrex. I thought there would be more to you then that." Shaarok shook his head. He was bruised and tired but there was no question who the winner was. He took Wrex in a head hold and dragged him out of the circle with maddening casualness.

"I suppose this is a sad case of reputation over substance." Said Hamilton.

"F-fuck you spectre." Was all he could muster in reply.

Shaarok's expression took on an unpleasant leering quality.  
"If you were anyone else I would kill you now but unfortunately you are more than Urdnot leader: you cured the genophage. For that you have my respect, even in the sorry shrunken state you are now. You can go but remember that I am stronger, I was always stronger."

Hamilton coughed to get their attention. His eyes were alive with a frantic energy but he spoke with with a strained politeness.  
"You know if you let him live he will return for revenge. He'll try to reclaim the clan."

Shaarok sneered at him dispassionately.  
"Then I had better start preparing for the return of a worthy rival. This is my house now human your opinion means nothing. You have delivered your message, you should leave."

From his place on the floor Wrex could see the thin man's jaw clench and his lips purse. He egged him on silently. ' _Go on tip your hand, tell him that you're the only reason he won, see how quickly he turns on you._ ' But he didn't. He just plastered a wide fake grin on his face and made an elaborate exit.

Once he was gone Shaarok gestured to the guards.  
"Take the former chief and dump him outside the walls, give him a weapon and some medigel first though, he deserves a fighting chance in the wastes. I'm sorry Urdnot Grunt but as a member of Wrex's krantt I can't trust you to obey the new leadership, I wouldn't in your place."

Grunt tried to take a shaky step towards him but the medic held him back. The guards seized them under the armpits and dragged the injured krogan from the throne room. Shaarok called after them, eager to have the last word.

"You were good for the krogan Wrex but some issues are too big to ignore. The Reapers have it coming!"


	11. Crossing the line

There was no warning, no evacuation order, no alert. One minute Exo-Geni had two hundred and thirteen employees working in their Terra Novan complex. The next a beam of crimson energy lanced down from the sky, detonating the fuel silos behind the main office tower. Then there were significantly less.

Spectre agent Tiberia Hessius had been touring the facility when the blast hit, he had received a tip off that Exo-Geni was performing inhumane clinical trials on sentients. As this was only his third solo mission he had intended to conduct the affair with speed and efficiency. Even these days it wasn't easy being a turian in the spectres, Saren Arterius cast a long shadow and he still felt like he had a lot to prove.  
At least dealing with a human company meant he would not have to endure the constant 'Tiberia? Isn't that a girl's name?' jibes he endured while dealing with fellow turians.

Obviously that ended up being the least of his concerns. The explosion tossed him flat ironically saving his life. Mere heartbeats after the first beam a second struck the centre of the car park and swept around, carving the front off the building. Tiberia had been speaking to the administrator's assistant in the lobby just before the attack. The young man was reduced to ash before his eyes and he was thrown onto his back by a concussive shockwave. The beam must have passed within a metre of him. He came up with weapons drawn, an Executor pistol in both hands, each capable of discharging 250 explosive tipped rounds a minute. No harm in taking chances. So far there was no sign of an enemy though. A hit and run maybe?

The once vibrant office had been gutted, ash and smoke were thick in the air obscuring the dazed figures of survivors milling through the carnage. The spectre was on high alert, he moved from room to room checking to see how many people were left, asking if anyone had seen where the shot came from. No on had.  
Now trailing a small group of injured workers Tiberia found his way to the administrator's office. the smoke was so bad here that he had to don a respirator and wave the others back down the hall.

"Spectre! Down here! I can't breath." The administrator lay pinned to the floor under a collapsed section of ceiling.

His eyes watering fiercely from the smoke he gingerly crossed the creaking floor tiles. He barely got halfway before something large and roughly cylindrical dropped in through the hole where the front of the building had once been.

' _Missile_.' Before he had even finished the thought his finely tuned reflexes had him tumbling back through the doorway. But there was no blast. Poking his head round the corner Tiberia saw the pod unfurl into a tall sleek mech made of a familiar purple tinted metal. It was a Reaper drone, the kind that could be found at embassys on every citadel homeworld. It turned it's featureless head towards him.

"Spectre we know who you are. We know what you have done."

Tiberia didn't react. That was hardly a friendly greeting but he didn't want make a move until he knew for sure that what he thought was happening was in fact happening. It wasn't unheard of for Reaper drones to act as first responders to disaster zones, it wouldn't do to cause an incident by blowing away a rescue party. So he followed the mech with his guns as it reached out and... snapped the administrator's neck.  
Tiberia grimaced and held down the triggers, hosing the robot with explosive bullets. At first they rebounded harmlessly off it's armoured torso until he corrected his aim to target the vulnerable knee joints, severing it's lower limbs and dropping it to the floor.  
Luckily for everyone in the complex the spectres had not sat idle since the war. Tiberia remembered the endless drills with razor sharp clarity. _Target the knees. Once it is on the ground close the the gap and pry open the torso plating. watch out for it's arms, pin them if you can. Shatter the orb in the chest cavity to sever the link to the controlling Reaper_.

It took him two attempts but he managed. The drone collapsed, the lights along it's chassis went dark. As the thumping in his ears slowly receded Tiberia became aware of the sounds of impacts all around him. On the floors above, down the hall, in the skycar lot bellow, dozens of drones were raining from the sky. Turning slowly on the spot he saw that everyone of them was stalking towards his position.

"Spirits." He whispered. No time to analyse, now it was time for action. Sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him he fled back to the survivors.

"Do you have a basement? A shelter?"

A tall dark haired woman with a gash running down the side of her face stepped forward, she looked more together than the rest.  
"I can lead the others to safety if you slow them down. That is you're job isn't it spectre?"

Tiberia laughed at that but only ended up coughing up some smokey phlegm, his respirator must be damaged.  
"Hessius. My name is Hessius and yes it's my job to save people. But if I do this it's very likely I'm not going to last long so do me a favour miss..."

The woman gave him an appraising look.  
"Lawson. Division administrator Lawson."

"Miss Lawson, please would you make sure that whoever comes to rescue you knows to tell Talian Hessius what happened to me. Tell them I did my duty."

"I'll tell them." She nodded sternly then began ushering the shell shocked humans down the hall towards the stairwell.

With that concern dealt with Tiberia refocused on the problem at hand: how to defeat or destroy at least two dozen Reaper drones. He silenced his racing brain, dismissing all thought of trying to figure out what was happening, let the council deal with the fallout. He just had to survive, time to fight smart. With a flick of his talon he activated his tactical HUD overlay and tiptoed down the hall in the opposite direction, seeding small disruptor mines in his wake. Consulting the floor plan on his omnitool he chose one of the corner offices for his last stand, the Reapers seemed to be out to get him specifically, he could use that to funnel them into a kill zone. However when he got there a drone was already waiting. The streamlined design of the mech made it hard to be sure but it looked like it was facing way from the door. Being extra careful where he placed his feet Tiberia entered the room and saw that it had it's hand pressed against the screen of one of the office computers, it was downloading data. Tiberia caught the words ' _generation VIII_ ' and _'Lazarus_ ' before the screen flashed to black and the mech turned towards him. This could work to his advantage, he had bait for his trap.

The key to fighting Reaper drones was multiple quick strikes without letting yourself get bogged down in melee combat. The drones lacked any projectile weaponary but were stronger than any organic could hope to be and were capable of discharging a shock through their carapace that could prove lethal. Tiberia started by ducking behind it and attaching a disruptor mine to it's back then, as it writhed on the floor, he severed the steel cabling that served as tendons for it's arms and legs with his beyonet. After a while it seemed to realise it was helpless and gave up struggling, turning it's mask towards him.

"Thiiiiiiiiis isn'ttttttttt over." It glitched. Tiberia let it talk, in truth he wasn't listening, instead he used his energy to prepare the room. Reaper drones were coordinated but painfully predictable when not under the direct control of a destroyer class Reaper or above. Just as he thought after less than thirty seconds the others began to converge on his position. He upended a desk and crouched behind it but not before crushing a light bulb from one of the wall fixtures and sprinkling it in the doorway. When he heard the sound of crunching glass he waited a few heartbeats to maximise the number of units over the threshold then triggered the mines. The cumulative electromagnetic charge sent every drone on the same floor tumbling to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut and sparks arching along every metal surface within reach. Tiberia grimaced as his HUD flickered, died and sent a powerful charge shooting through his fillings. Forced to verify success the old fashioned way he stalked back to the stairwell dismantling every drone he came across. He was just smashing his seventh control orb with the butt of his pistol when, down the hall, one of the disabled units began to thrash. He ducked into the nearest office as green energy cascaded off the robots chassis, bending it's limbs out at unnatural angles. With deliberate slowness it stood and, in a disturbingly life like display, shook it's head and sighed.

"It's not the same." Tiberia heard it mutter.

He held his breath hoping he could remain hidden long enough to spring another ambush. He knew what this was: direct control, a being possessed by the essence of a full blown Reaper. It had been covered in the Reaper Threat Assessment but no one had seen the technique demonstrated since the war. He didn't find that comforting, it meant the Shepherd was changing it's tactics. With his HUD still down Tiberia was forced to play it by ear, he shut his eyes and strained his hearing to the limit. He heard the subtle whirring of servo motors, the approaching sound of debris moving underfoot and an unfamiliar crackling noise that he could only attribute to the emerald energy he had glimpsed. The footsteps paused briefly outside then continued on down the corridor.

After a few steadying breaths and a forlorn wish for more mines Tiberia lunged around the door post and came face to face-plate with the possessed drone. Doing his best to recover from the surprise he emptied both handguns in its direction. Instead of simply soaking the damage as the others had it raised a hand and his shots came up dead against a shimmering green barrier.  
Tiberia felt it: the turning point, now was the moment when he had to decide whether continue fighting or turn and flee. He had probably bought the Exo-Geni employees enough time to make it off the premises but on the other hand he was still no closer to learning the Reapers motivations for this attack.  
He drew his bayonet. Before he had a chance to do any thing else his opponent threw out its other hand and blew him back down the hallway with a cascading biotic shockwave.

He must have passed out for a second because the next thing he knew he was lying crumpled against the wall at the other end of the hall from the ambush site. He tried to move and instantly blacked out again.  
Tiberia wasn't sure how long he was out but when he came to the possessed drone was standing over him, it's head cocked to one side.

"I would stay still if I were you. Your spine is shattered." It said it so matter-of-factly that he almost didn't take it in, he must be in shock. Shouldn't there be more pain?

With a quiet sigh of easing hydraulics the drone crouched down next to him.  
"Now then agent Hessius let's get this over with." With an almost gentle firmness the glowing robot maneuvered him into an upright position then placed a hand on either side of his head. He was about to ask it a question when deafening almost subsonic noise and bright strobing light bombarded his senses. He felt blood running freely from his nostrils and tied to scream but all that came out was a strangled 'Guh.'

"Shhhh it's okay, it's okay. I know it hurts. This is the worst part, we need to break down your defenses before we can get to work. I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about soon enough. Just let it happen."  
The last thing Tiberia Hessius' brain registered was the zigzagging green flame tracing circuitry-like patterns across his vision that seemed to burrow into his mind.

 _N/B: The Shepherd has a green aura because I thought if Sovereign is red and Harbinger is orange why can't each Reaper choose their colour scheme. It has nothing to do with the glowy green stuff everyone if covered with during the synthesis ending, just putting that out there._


	12. Aethyta

Dr Yrenna insisted things were going well, she seemed to think that if she said it enough it would become the truth. Liara wasn't so sure. They must have scanned the hormonculus more than ten times but the results were always the same: minor skull fracture, light brain damage. Nothing that the body's nanite accelerated healing could not fix but time was no longer on their side.  
It had been Yrenna's idea to install a neural limiter at the base of the hormonculus's skull, to prevent a repeat of their last attempt. Liara had objected at first, she had no desire to resurrect a slave, but the memories of Ellie's wild eyed suicide attempt were still fresh in her mind. In the end she was easily persuaded. As they worked away at the surgery table, their scrubs becoming more and more soaked with blood as the evening passed, they listened to ANN to pass the time. The droning news feed in the background was a constant reminder of the importance of their task.

The fifth fleet had been recalled and placed in a cordon around earth. Fifth fleet admiral Thomas Stone's brief statement was played on a loop over and over. Reaper drones on more than half a dozen worlds were reported to have switched from crowd control protocols and were mercilessly putting down petty criminals and rioters. In most of earths major cities there was a heavily armoured Alliance soldier on every street corner. When law enforcement agencies denied drones their usual access to crime scenes the mechs did not resist. When challenged by an authority figure the seemingly rogue mechs always backed down but there were everywhere at once, too many for the Alliance or C-Sec to handle. As soon as no one was directly forbidding them from doing something they reverted to their new overly violent methods. Most employees at Reaper embassies thought better of turning up to work but those that did come in found nothing amiss aside from an understandable lack of personnel traffic.

No one knew what was happening and everyone was afraid.

By the time the two asari had finished grafting the small metal box of the neural limiter to the hormonculus's neck the clock read 00:14. Liara pulled off one latex glove and wiped an accumulated layer of sweat from her forehead.  
"That should do it."

Yrenna was still wearing her surgical mask and the steely grey eyes above it betrayed nothing.  
"Liara I think we need to seriously look at other approaches. There is a very real chance that the Reaper's current erratic behavior is a result of our meddling. The limiter could have multiple uses. Give it some thought."

Liara had a heated reply ready to go but a loud beeping from her message terminal broke her train of thought. Clearly not in the mood for any confrontation Yrenna took that opportunity to slip out of the operating room. With her ungloved hand Liara linked her omni-tool to the terminal and opened the message, it was just a single line.

 _Needed at home. It's about Amelia._  
 _-Dad._

It was after dark the next day by the time Liara reached the apartment. All the lights were off. She felt her way over to the control pad next to the kitchen door and dialed up to a soothing luminescence. Everyone must already be in bed.

"Lelli?" She called out softly, she didn't want to wake Amelia.

"She's not here." There was a split second of panic before Liara realised she recognised the voice.

"Dad?" Sure enough Liara's 'father' matriarch Aethyta was standing in the kitchen doorway wearing a red silken dressing gown.

"Where is Lelli?" It came out a lot more defensive than she intended.

"I sent her home." Aethyta said calmly.

"Why?"

Aethyta smiled warmly and stepped forward to put a hand on Liara's shoulder.  
"Liara I didn't move back to Thessia so that you could leave my granddaughter with a nanny. I'm here for her and for you."

"Well I'm glad she got to spend some time with you but honestly I wish you had called me first."

Aethyta's face closed down.  
"I agree, some honesty wouldn't go amiss."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what was so important that you had to leave a young girl without her mother for six days without even telling her why?"

Liara paused to wrestle an angry retort into submission.  
"She is not a baby, father." She said with forced calm.

"Liara she's less than thirty. She hasn't even gotten her first training bra. She's a kid."

Liara sighed, rubbed her eyes tiredly and lent on the kitchen bar.  
"I don't want to argue about this again. Do you really think I would miss a day of Amelia's childhood if it was not vital?" Without meaning to her stage whisper had escalated into almost a shout. she moderated herself before continuing.

"She means everything to me."

"So your not going to explain. That's fine I can guess. This is about Shepard."

Liara's breath caught in her throat.  
"W-what?" How much did Aethyta know?

The older asari squared her shoulders gearing up for a speech.

"You've spent most of Amelia's life distracted, either by your work or by the memory of your dead bondmate. I understand Liara, believe me I do: when I heard that Benezia had died I agonized over what I could have done differently, with you, with our relationship, everything. But we had to split, no matter how much hurt came my way it couldn't fall back on you. this is different. While you are off doing goddess knows what your daughter (my granddaughter) is right here missing you. The sad part is that you are half right; she won't be a kid for that much longer and once it's gone there is no getting it back. Don't miss out on that, not like I did. Shepard isn't worth it. She wouldn't want this."

Liara choked on her words. Angry tears boiled at the corners of her eyes.  
"You didn't know her. You don't know what she's worth or what she wanted."

Aethyta suddenly looked very sad.  
"No I didn't know her. I met her a few times, chatted with her, she seemed like she really had her shit together. I do know Amelia though and I can tell you that girl is worth more than Shepard or me or you. She has the best of all of us Liara and she deserves the best that you can give her. It's time to put Shepard to rest, pull up your big girl pants and go be the mother I know you can be."


	13. Snapshots

**Ilos**

'Do what you think is best.' That was what Liara had said just before her hurried departure. Well never let be said that Vetea Yrenna shied away from difficult decisions . As things stood the Reapers were close to running amok and the asari doctors currently had only one way to influence the situation.

Yrenna had learned two things from her parents: from her mother (a prominent asari researcher) she had learned to constantly strive to push the limits of science and from her father (a colonel in the turian military) she learned that seizing the initiative could be more important than any carefully considered strategy.  
It was very possible that this small lab on the lost backwater planet of Ilos was in a better position to contain the resurgent Reaper threat than the council itself.

It was harder for one person to do the work of preparing the hormonculus alone so Liara had been gone for a full three hours before Yrenna was satisfied that everything was ready. Yrenna was aware of the backstory behind Liara and Elizabeth Shepard's relationship (it had been juicy tabloid gossip after the first battle of the citadel) but now, looking down at the empty shell of a body, she wondered what made this human worth all the effort. Liara had often claimed that her interest was only in putting the future back in the hands of organics, but if that was the case they could have saved themselves twenty years of work and used a simple mech instead of a custom grown host. What was T'soni's endgame? To get married and settle down with a galaxy killing AI as her bondmate? Yrenna had known her too long not to know that Liara T'soni was one of the best schemers around. Still perhaps the time had come to take a practical approach untainted by sentimentality.

 **The Reaper mindscape**

It was happening again. For the first several milliseconds the mysterious signal was lost in the chaotic ocean of consciousness and data that made up the mindscape.

' _Fifteen hundred agitators breaking the T'loak security cordon on Omega. Encircle and neutralise.'_

 _'Attican smuggler vessel 'Reckless Endangerment' refuses to answer demands of surrender. Warning shot fired off the port bow.'_

 _'Krogan matching description of Urdnot Wrex sighted clashing with vorcha gangs in Tuchanka wastes.'_

Eventually however the vague pulling intensified into a powerful tugging that could on longer be ignored. It was slightly different this time, there was an inexplicable feeling of finality.

Well if the Shepherd was about to loose control of the Reapers she would leave them something to remember her by. In the limited time left to her Shepherd drew up mental plans for an elaborate digital structure: a mind prison. She had been toying with the mind prison concept for years now as a possible upgrade to the indoctrination process. Ideally each Reaper would receive an unexpected delivery of a handcrafted mind prison but for now mass production would have to do. Under normal circumstances the isolation the structure imposed would stop their unoriginal nature from being a problem but Reapers were nothing if not problematic.

' _We are each a nation, independent, free of all weakness_.' Sovereign's words still rang rang true, now more than ever.

The older Reapers like Harbinger would unravel the thoughtform cages in short order and the younger ones would probably brute force their way through soon after. It was a temporary solution but hopefully it would stop the walls of the mindscape from crashing down in the Shepherds absence.

Having done everything possible to avert disaster she began to surrender control to the signal but not before sending out a final message.

 **Nos Astra**

The communal relief at Kapesh-Ardate HQ was palpable. Finally a call to action. Since the Darwin's Line incident not a single operative had left the base on company business, that was about to change.

Karla clapped her hands, the noise echoed around the hanger, getting the attention of the milling solders.  
"Alright everyone gather round. Briefing time." Claire had decided on four teams for this operation so there were fifteen people plus Claire to account for. Once everyone was gathered in a semicircle around her Karla began.

"Okay looks like you are all ready to rock. Just to clarify it's going to be call signs only from here on out. I'm going to be overseeing things from back here and you can call me 'Empress' as long as the operation is ongoing. Lieutenant Perry here is 'Swan.' I'm sure you already know the signs of the other people in your unit and the other squad leaders so I'll turn you over to Swan who will have command on the ground.

Claire stepped in smoothly, it may have been twenty five years but she had never forgotten her time with the Australian anti-terrorism taskforce. Ops like this where very much her niche.

"As you know lieutenant Farrier has been sending out FTL capable drones to scan the target all morning and came back empty handed, we don't have a clear picture of what to expect once we are in there. That said I'm confident that we can succeed if you all take it slow and follow my orders. You all know why we are here and who the client is so I won't waste time on inspirational speeches. Omnitools out! I want a fifteen minute timer running in three... two... one... mark!"

There was a series of beeps as the assembled mercenaries synchronized their hardsuit clocks. Claire nodded approvingly.  
"And that's about it. Everyone to your shuttles."

Karla watched them go regretfully. They needed the best for this operation and sadly that was no longer her. Two decades ago Karla had lost her right eye taking down a rampaging krogan. The fight had cemented her reputation and paved the way for the Kapesh-Ardate but it has also left her with irreparable nerve damage. The headaches she had suffered since childhood had been magnified tenfold and she could no longer use her biotics without experiencing crippling pain. It was one of the things she regretted most; she was the director of one of the galaxy's most sought after mercenary groups but couldn't fight herself.


	14. A pleasant boat ride

The Shepherd's message had been twofold: two sets of coordinates each with a message of their own attached.  
The first set led to the densely populated northern continent of Terra Nova and came with the message ' _a routine pick up. Use him to get ahead of the curve._ '  
The second was for the Thessian city of Armali and simply said ' _help me_.'  
Karla took that to mean that she and her employees were part of some sort of grand contingency plan, which meant that things were probably not going well for the Shepherd, a worrying prospect. Seeing as the Kapesh-Ardate was seemingly in danger of loosing their most valuable meal ticket she had deployed her best troops along with Claire to the location marked ' _help_.' The ' _routine pick up_ ' one she planned to tackle on her own, if only to make herself feel useful. Boreal had wanted to accompany her but he was part of Claire's team and as such was needed elsewhere. What wasn't needed was air-to-air fire support so Alex Griffith had volunteered instead.

In comparison to what Claire's people must be undergoing their trip was leisurely. They rode a public shuttle down to the planetary capital of Scott and disembarked quickly, they had no luggage. Though she would never admit it Karla felt slightly uneasy with so many humans around so she let Alex do all of the talking required to get them through customs. Their hardsuits and sidearms were immediately confiscated awaiting their return to the space port on their return journey. Karla wasn't worried, if they really were being set up by the Reapers she doubted a couple of pistols would turn the tide & getting an operational weapons permit would have wasted more time than they had to burn. Straight outside the spaceport doors was the grand Falcon canal that wound it's way lazily through the city centre. The setting sun transformed the mucky water into a broad golden thoroughfare crowded with commercial barges, water taxis and touristy anti-grav gondolas. Even when surrounded by skyscrapers on three sides it was a sight to behold. Alex, who was always good for a factoid or two, told her that it had been voted the third most beautiful boat ride in the alliance six years in a row, once you got out the city that is. While they were still in range of the spaceports free extranet coverage Karla called up an aerial view of the city from a local weather satellite on her omni-tool. According to the hologram the coordinates lead to Terra Nova's Reaper embassy on the bank of the Falcon about four miles further into the city.

The fastest way to get there was clearly by boat so Karla tried to hail them a water taxi. After several unsuccessful attempts they resolved to hire one of the smaller tourist launches instead. The two women only had to walk a short distance along the waters edge before they came across ' _Phil's Terra Novan Tours est 2156_.' It was just a single grav-gondola and it had a political advertisement in place of a canopy.  
' _The Terra Firma Party: keeping Terra Nova in your hands! Ask about our weekly seminars at TNU!_ ' The man lounging in the shade of the banner was too young to be the original Phil but Karla saw that he had two badges pinned to his university of Terra Nova blazer. The first said ' _Philip K Hoyt tour guide_ ' and the second ' _TFTN_.' Karla decided it might be better to let Alex do the talking.

"Hi there! We have just landed and were thinking about getting a better view of your wonderful city. Room for two?"

The young man's eyes widened as he looked up and saw Karla.  
"Um yeah. That asari... are they with you?"

Sensing a loaded question Alex ran a hand nervously through her short brown hair and squinted before replying.  
"She's my boss."

"Well I suppose it could be worse, you hear things but I suppose people do what they have to, out there in the big wide galaxy... I suppose." Perhaps realising he was rambling he straightened up and seemed to mentally shake himself. "Where to?"

"Embassy quarter, 18th and third I think it is."

The man snickered unpleasantly. "The Reaper headquarters? Not to turn away paying customers but I'm sure my political leanings haven't escaped you, surely you've heard Terra Firma's motto: earth first. There are plenty of other boats on the river that would be happy to take a couple of machine lickers like yourselfs, no offense intended."

Karla cracked her neck and sighed. If it wasn't likely to hurt her as much as him she would have been sorely tempted to see if she could throw this greasy haired human far enough to reach the far bank. Instead she put a hand on Alex's shoulder and stepped up to the lanky human.  
"Listen Mr Hoyt all we are asking for is passage to the embassy landing, that's it. Now if your dislike of purple skin and head crests overrides your desire to get paid then please feel free to tell me to buzz off but if not..."  
She reached into the inside pocket of her leather jacket and fished out a chip with a digital readout that let him know it was worth three hundred credits.

Phillip motioned them into the gondola with a sweeping theatrical gesture and a cheerful "Right this way ladies!" He even managed a smile.

Alex was uncharacteristically quiet during their boat ride. Normally the motormouth pilot would have been talking Karla's ear off about something or other but she just sat in silence and fiddled with her hands. Hoyt on the other hand seemed to take his duty as tour guide very seriously and continued to point out objects of interest on either side even after she told him it was unnecessary.  
The Reaper embassy cast a long shadow, literally. As they rounded a bend in the river they past into the shade of a colossal capital class Reaper that was straddling the embassy building like a living skyscraper, indeed it was taller than many of the structures that surrounded it. Although it's threatening presence was undeniable this Reaper seemed inactive, docile almost, there were no lights along it's massive carapace and it stood stone still more like a statue than a machine.

Hoyt brought the boat to a smooth halt next to one of a series of thin jetties dedicated to embassy personnel, there weren't many others around.  
"That will be forty eight fifty." He said with an outstretched hand and a furtive glance at the Reaper above.

Karla slapped the whole three hundred credit chip into his hand with a smirk. As they walked off she couldn't resist tossing a final comment over her shoulder.  
"Use it to get yourself a better haircut."

Even though the streets they passed through seemed like upscale pedestrian walkways you could find on any number of worlds (fake cobbles, decorative shrubs, elegant solar lamps) the atmosphere of the place was all wrong. For one thing there was no one around and there seemed to be a large amount of rubbish lining the pavements, as if even the tiny street sweeping mechs alliance worlds seemed to favour feared to tread close to the Reaper. Karla and Alex slogged their way past the salarian, batarian and volus embassies before setting eyes on the Reaper embassy itself; a long two storey building of sleek brushed metal, it was noticeably different from its organic counterparts in that it had no windows. a small crowd of what looked like protesters had gathered outside the main entrance but far from being fired up they looked haggard. They lounged around the door, sitting on boxes, sleeping in pop up tents or leaning on the railings staring off into nothingness, their placards discarded and forgotten. Clearly they had been here for a long time. Karla shook her head, you couldn't out wait a species with an minimum lifespan of fifty thousand years, they would simply wait for the humans to get bored and go away, or die of old age. Nobody bothered the two Kepesh-Ardate members as they let themselves into the embassy lobby, they didn't even look up.

The interior was as spartan as the outside with only a series of doors leading off to left and right. There was no desk, only a tall faceless Reaper drone standing to attention. It bowed politely as they approached.

"Director D'mel, flight commander Griffith. Welcome."

"Uh hi. We got a message from your... boss? God? Asking us to come to these coordinates."

The drone bowed again and motioned for them to follow it through one of the many nondescript doors.  
"Of course. We received a similar message not long ago, we believe we know exactly why you were summoned." The robot then lapsed into silence and continued to lead them from featureless hallway to featureless hallway. After a very short amount of time the quiet started to fray Karla's nerves so she attempted to strike up a conversation.

"So what's the deal with those people outside?"

The drone kept walking but rotated its head one hundred and eighty degrees to look at them as it answered, it was thoroughly unnerving.  
"They were here to protest many of the peacekeeping actions we have been undertaking recently."

"Were?" Added Alex with a worried expression. It looked like she might be regretting volunteering for this mission so hastily.

"Since you are a trusted asset of ours we feel we can trust you with this information. Our scanners were picking up elevated heart rates, pupil dilation and increased activity in the amygdala regions of those human's brains. All signs pointed to the outbreak of violence within the week, violence that could spread to the entire colony if left unchecked. So to prevent planet wide rioting we broadcast subliminal signals through our public address system."

"You indoctrinated them?" Karla could feel her own heart speed up and wondered if the drone could sense the same symptoms in her that it sensed in the protesters.

"No we simply defused their anger and fear, they are not under our control. It would have been easy to push harder and send them home but that would have aroused suspicion. In their current state the humans will loiter outside until they forget why they came here then return to there lives. That is the 'deal with those people outside.'

They lapsed back into silence except for the sound of their boots and the drone's metal heels clacking off the floor. It lead them into a stairwell and down two flights to a subbasement. Karla knew she should be memorising the route back to the front door but the drone's little explanation had her back teeth on edge. Had it been trying to scare her, threaten her? Or was that really the Reapers idea of a friendly exchange. Somehow she doubted the drones had enough programming power to get psychological.

Their final destination was a tiny cell at the end of the subbasement corridor. The room was empty except for a stainless steel chair and a battered looking turian cuffed to it. At first Karla thought it was Amon Dervin (their contact during the Sur'Kesh bombing case) but on closer inspection she had never seen this man before.

"This is Tiberia Hessius, agent of the citadels Special Tactics and Reconnaissance division. I believe he has some information for you, specifically relating to one of his peers you encountered not long ago and his recent activities."

Karla took a step backwards and stepped on Alex's toes.  
"What the hell are you getting me mixed up in?"

The drone's blank face plate was impossible to read and it's voice remained placid but nonetheless it somehow managed to convey a sense of menace in its next statement.

"It is too late for reconsideration asari. We told the truth in our message, we only seek to help you get ahead of the curve and end this crisis before events cascade out of our control. But make no mistake: you are tools and this is not a choice."


	15. Tipping point

_N/B: Just in time for N7 day._

"What is your name?"

"I am the Shepherd. I-ghaaah!"

"You know I'm not the one causing you discomfort. Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?"

Every time shepherd subconsciously reached for the mindscape she was overwhelmed by waves of crippling pain. As with before the longer she spent in this physical body the further her power seemed to recede, this caused an unfamiliar sensation that she could only conclude was fear, fear of being trapped, fear of powerlessness.  
Truth be told she had lost count of time. Had she been personified for a day, ten, more, less? There was no way to tell. All she knew was that she was trapped twice over; once in this human body (half blind the the world around it) and second in this damned mirrored cell. Her existence had shrunk to a three metre cube and only included a cot, a table, two chairs and one asari.

Most of the time Shepherd was on her own with her reflection and her thoughts but every so often the asari would enter and sit in one of the chairs, Shepherd would sit opposite and the asari would ask questions. These interrogations varied widely in content and tone, seemingly at random. Sometimes she would gently probe about politics, others she would angrily try to force a reaction to numerous Reaper related incidents of the last few years. Sometimes they merely chatted. Occasionally the asari would bring visual aids with her for their sessions, this time it was a folder of glossy photographs.

Did Shepherd recognise this building, this turian or this starship? The answer was always no. She always told the truth, by her logic she did not possess enough information about her situation to begin fabricating a convincing lie, or to gain anything from doing so.

"Are you listening?" Asked the asari.

Shepherd shifted in her seat, she wasn't listening, she was too busy examining herself in the reflective wall behind the asari. Her understanding might be too limited to weave a complex deception but that didn't mean she couldn't gather data, might as well start with herself. Paradoxically the longer she was trapped in this fleshy vessel and the more of her power she lost the easier it became to think and plan. Perhaps Shepherd was simply readjusting to thinking on a biological scale.  
Now, after maybe ten minutes of staring at her reflection as the asari droned on, she could finally put her finger on what was so different: her current body was younger. Elizabeth Shepard had been thirty two years old when she died, the face gazing back at her from the mirror could not be any older than early to mid twenties. So someone, probably this asari, had cloned or otherwise recreated commander Shepard and trapped her within it but to what purpose? Her destruction would not destroy the Reapers only free them. Did they mean to break her,control the Reapers on their own terms? Was that the reason behind these question and answer sessions? An involuntary chuckle escaped from Shepherd's lips at the thought of having her own methods turned against her.

"Is something amusing?" Said the asari in a teacherly tone.

Refocusing her attention and feeling slightly empowered by this new knowledge Shepherd replied.  
"It's nothing. You were saying?"

The asari frowned but continued.  
"This 'mindscape' you keep referring to, is it a shared digital domain inhabited by Reaper collectives or something more exotic?"

"I'm not really sure. It is so omnipresent that I haven't devoted much thought to it. I suppose I presumed that all the Reapers coming together generated such a vast amount of power that it allowed us to commune on a higher level. I never saw it as a Reaper super server or an alternate dimension or anything like that."

The asari leaned back in her chair and scribbled a note on her datapad.  
"An interesting perspective."

"I thought so."

One of the many perks of being a non-organic intelligence was being able to follow many different thought processes at once. While her mouth was engaged answering questions another part of her mind had hit upon an idea: if this asari had hoped to trap a synthetic mind in an organic body then she must have fitted it with some heavy duty cybernetic implants. Assuming that was the case then theoretically it should be possible to overclock those implants in a similar manner to Sovereign and Harbinger during the 'direct control' process. Perhaps Shepherd could siphon off enough power to escape this place. That would take time however, time Shepherd fully intended to use reminding her asari captor who exactly she had trapped and that she was not to be trifled with.

"What is the purpose of these questions? You seem to already know the answers, showing me pictures of random people would be be pointless unless you were more interested in my answers than the question."

The asari smiled broadly.  
"Ah inquisitiveness at last! Although I am disappointed it took you this long to think of asking questions of your own. Nevertheless this is a breakthrough. I think we may finally be making progress, but surely you would rather know where we are or who I am?"

Shepherd twisted her arms around each other and laced her fingers, still getting used to the new sensations.  
"No. If I knew your reasoning it wouldn't be difficult to extrapolate your identity and motivations."

The asari raised a brow. "My my, aren't we cunning. Well you're not wrong, this method is much more about gauging your responses than the question itself."

Shepherd forced a sly smile onto her lips, she felt a little mind game coming on.  
"Let me pose a question to you. The cybernetic parts used in this body's construction, you bought them from Exogeni didn't you? Perhaps via Binery Helix since Exogeni doesn't actually manufacture cybernetics."

The asari tried not to react but like all organics she was betrayed by her own body, her eyes narrowed and her breathing quickened. All correct so far but Shepherd felt the need to take it further, to remind her that she was not fully in control. With melodramatic flare she raised a hand in the asari's direction and placed two fingers of her other hand to her temple like a mentalist attempting a mind reading.

"There is a name as well... Division administrator Oriana Lawson. She was your contact within Exogeni correct? You bought the parts from her."

Again the asari tried to hide her reaction, she pretended to write something on her datapad to buy herself time to formulate a response.  
"That is a very particular guess. Would you care to share how you arrived at this conclusion?"

Shepherd didn't even attempt to stop herself laughing, it was not so much the situation itself she found funny, it was more the fact that she could be so easily amused by something so small and petty. It was such a human reaction. She had forgotten how it felt to relish the little details.

"I already told you. As soon as you opened your mouth you were feeding me information, it wasn't that hard to reverse engineer your thought process, to get inside your head. You might want to be more careful with what you let slip in future."

In truth there had been very little deduction involved. Shepherd vividly remembered the files her drones had downloaded from Exogeni's Terra Nova complex. Someone had been commissioning custom cybernetics based on Lazarus project designs, now thanks to this asari's unsubtle body language Shepherd knew that she was the mysterious buyer.  
Before the asari could say anything else her datapad began buzzing harshly and vibrating across the table. She picked it up and tapped a few holographic keys then sucked in a breath through pursed lips and stood abruptly.

"I'll be back in a moment." She said with forced composure and turned to leave.

The entire time they had been talking Shepherd had been mentally examining her body's internal structure, looking for irregularities. At last, just as the asari was getting to her feet, she found something: a small electronic box about the size of the last joint on her thumb implanted at the base of her skull. It matched one of the parts ordered from Exogeni. According to the designs her drone had procured it was a less refined version of the control chip Miranda Lawson had originally wanted to fit to commander Shepard. This was very likely the reason for the pain she experienced every time she reached for the mindscape. Now she knew where to focus her efforts it was easier to draw energy from the mindscape and aim it not at herself but at the implant. The agony was horrific, she doubled over and clawed at the table until her nails snapped, whining like an animal. Luckily the asari was almost to the door and didn't seem to notice.  
Once she emerged from the numbing pain the effect was immediate, her body felt truly alive, thrumming with energy. She was acutely aware of every aspect of her physical self, organic and synthetic both. Leaving this body behind and directly accessing the mindscape still seemed to be beyond her but it was still a marked improvement. As the asari opened the door Shepherd realised that this might be her only chance at freedom. Who knew how long it might be before another opportunity arose. She was quite sure that in the past she would have just waited for her jailers to die of old age and the cell to crumble around her. She felt a new perplexing attachment to the short term, another human trait.

In the mindscape Shepherd had beaten back the Reapers using what she had dubbed 'thoughtform' but here in the physical world she would need a more practical means of attack. The secret to successful indoctrination was subsonic vibrations and subliminal messaging coupled with delicate electromagnetic waves all applied over a long period of time for maximum results. Never before had Shepherd tried to use these techniques as a blunt instrument but beggars couldn't be choosers. by twisting the synthetic fibers around her vocal cords she should be able to produce any tone or wavelength she needed. Even with her quantum processing speed the asari was almost out the door by the time Shepherd was ready to act. Looking up at her captor through a curtain of red hair she felt her rage and frustration boil over.

A deep note right at the edge of hearing reverberated through the cell and a spark leapt from her arm to the metal table leg.  
All of the blood vessels in the asari's face burst simultaneously. She screamed and fell against the door, leaving a smear of purple alien blood on the cool surface. Calmly Shepherd stood and walked slowly to the fallen woman. The datapad was lying on the floor next to her, pulsing a red warning light across the asari's motionless face. Shepherd stooped to retrieve it, saw that there was a message waiting, and tapped play.

"Yrenna I'm going to be tied up here for another few days but I would appreciate an update when you have the time."

She knew that voice. Husky and soft but at the same time confident and slightly coy.

"Liara." She whispered.

No matter how hard Shepherd tried to distance herself from Liara T'soni she always found her at the center of things, whether pulling the strings or dancing to them. Which was the case this time she wondered. She had suspected Liara's involvement for a while now, that was why she had sent the Kapesh-Ardate to determine the depth of Liara's involvement just before her capture. Since she was the one in possession of the crucible orb there was no one else that Shepherd could think of that could exert that level of control over her.

Even if the Kapesh-Ardate had pieced all of this together (which she doubted) it seemed unlikely that she could expect a rescue anytime soon. She would have to facilitate that herself.

Outside the mirrored walls of the cell was a corridor of pitted stone with creeping vines growing up the walls. There were small lights drifting through the air that could either be glow bugs or some kind of bioluminescent spores, it was hard to tell from this distance. The corridor to her left terminated in a sturdy looking metal door so Shepherd doubled back down the right hand corridor. After rounding the corner she found herself in some sort of control room. The only source of illumination came from the dozens of screens what covered the entire far wall. Facing the monitor bank was a cluttered desk. A quick scan of the documents on display identified Liara's handwriting. Looking closer Shepherd saw that one of the monitors was showing a top down view of her cell. There was a warning flashing across the screen in bold capitals: DANGER! CONTAINMENT BREACH. ACTIVATE COUNTERMEASURES? Y/N.

What had gotten the asari (Yrenna) so wound up? The noise from her datapad had not been a message alert. With frustrating clumsiness she brought up the buildings security system. Even using instruments as inelegant as human fingers the firewall proved no trouble. There had been multiple security alarms triggered just before Shepherd had managed to free herself. Someone had forced their way inside the lab. Could it be her mercenaries? The cameras showed nothing, perhaps...

"Ah there you are." Called out a voice from the doorway. Looking round she saw that it belonged to a tall dark haired human dressed in spiny black armour. He was holding a metallic sphere in his right hand and a gun in his left. It was pointed squarely at Shepherd.

"Now I didn't come all this way and bypass all that security just to loose you now so if you would be so kind as to get on the ground and put your hands behind your head I won't have to render you unconscious."

There it was again, that feeling of powerlessness, of being a piece in someone else's game. Using her power against Yrenna had taken a lot of energy, she was not sure if she had enough to overwhelm this newcomer. A physical confrontation was out of the question. Commander Shepard had been a skilled and deadly soldier but this body had never done anything more than walk the short distance from her cell to here.

"And before you think about attempting to overpower or indoctrinate me you might want to turn your attention to this." He nodded to the sphere. "I'm sure you know what this is and that it gives me a distinct advantage. Please, come along quietly."

Strategies and plans within plans whirled around in Shepherd's head but all of them came back to the simple fact that as long as this man was in possession of the crucible orb he had undeniable control over her. It was better to go willingly and retain the ability to think, to build up a better understanding of this man, who he was and what his weaknesses were.

"Fine. I'll go with you."


	16. Stake out

Claire and her squads arrived on Thessia roughly in tandem with Karla and Alex landing on Terra Nova. Unlike Karla however She had enough foresight to order a weapons permit for the men and women under her command, so they were ushered through customs with their gear intact. That didn't stop the customs officer from giving her a deeply mistrustful glare from behind her desk.

"Name and occupation?"

"Lieutenant Claire Perry, Kepesh-Ardate mercenary company."

That information didn't seem to do anything for the asari's mood.  
"Purpose of visit?"

Also unlike Karla Claire liked to think of her smile as disarming rather than frightening.  
"Just business."

The target location was an upscale apartment building on the edge of a massive park named after some matriarch or other. Karla's orders had more or less been to go in guns blazing but something told her to take some time to familiarize herself with the situation first. It was an old instinct but one she trusted, so against instructions and to the intense grumbling of her men she established a discreet perimeter of plain clothes operatives around the building. Karla would be too busy with her own assignment to expect a progress report until at least the next day so Claire gave herself until then to get to grips with the coming and goings of the area. Claire and Boreal set up shop at an outside table of a small cafe across the street as Billy Fargo nestled into a good perch on the roof, ducking behind an air conditioning unit. Claire subtly ran facial recondition on the various people who came and went as the day wore on. Apparently only the asari elite could afford to live in this neighborhood. She identified a prominent judge sneaking in with her new boy toy, an admiral along with her wife and children and perhaps most interestingly Liara T'soni of SSV Normandy fame seen leading her daughter by the hand.  
The waiter was bringing Boreal his third Thessian Temple of the day when Claire finally decided she'd had enough.

"I don't get it, this is a built up area, civilians only. I don't know what We are supposed to be looking for." She let out a long frustrated sigh and thumped her forehead gently off the tabletop.

Boreal scratched behind his ear and shrugged.  
"Maybe we should get some eyes on the inside. A building that small I'd wager there are no more than ten or twelve apartments, we wait for the owner to go out then search their place. Six hours tops."

It was not cautious, it was not thought out, but it was what Karla would do. Claire could see why they made such a good couple.  
As the only asari in their little task force Irenni the biotics specialist was drafted into the role of infiltrator, the thought being that it would be easier for her to blend in. Claire pulled the logo of a local delivery company off the extranet and used her omnitool's mini fabricator to make up a name badge of her. One baseball cap and a clipboard later Irenni was ready to go.

 **Home of Judge Gaennia, one apartment over from Liara T'soni**

Judge Gaennia had just been about to settle into an evening alone with her latest human conquest (a charming young Estonian man named Kristjan) when her household VI began pulsing a gentle alert tone. With a grunt of annoyance Gaennia rolled out of bed, she could have sworn she had enabled privacy mode.

"Play message."

 _'There is a message being printed off in your study as you are reading this. You will deliver this message to the blonde haired human woman sitting out the front of the cafe across the street. You may look at the message if you wish but you will not breath a word of it to anyone, not unless you want everyone to find out about your time in the greenhouse.'_

Liara finished typing, hit send, then leaned back in her swivel chair and sighed so deeply that she had to take a desperate gasp of air to compose herself. Assuming her chosen courier understood the concept of blackmail they would be delivering it very soon. That should stop the mercenaries from kicking down her door at least and hopefully begin to reset the balance of the game. A game she had just lost the the advantage in, a game against an opponent she had not been entirely sure she was even playing against until now. The citadel office of special tactics and reconnaissance or more specifically the little splinter group headed up by the salarian Jelan Farsar, at least according to her intel. Liara was still unsure as to the level of council involvement if any. The 'rogue' spectres certainly didn't directly report back to them but they could easily be on long term assignment as was common.  
After scarcely two minutes the apartments perimeter sensors picked up Gaennia as she scurried past the front door, a sheaf of paper clutched in her hand. Rising from her chair Liara drifted over to window and watched as her puppet crossed the road and walked up to Claire Perry.

"I was told to give this to you."

Claire looked up at the asari and tilted her head, trying to size her up. She was an older woman, dignified but also scared. She gave up the paper without comment.

 _'If you are finished wasting your time here I can point you towards your true goal. You were sent here to extract a red haired human woman, she isn't here, just ask Jelan Farsar. While you're at it you might want to contact your boss Karla D'mel. You have become embroiled in a series of events beyond a mere mercenary company. If you want to stay alive you will need a helping hand, something I am willing to provide._  
 _Sincerely,_  
 _The shadow broker.'_

Boreal tapped her gently on the shoulder.  
"Something up lieutenant?"

Claire's head was whirling, that was a lot of information to digest. Firstly they had been sent here based on a single word message (help) not to rescue some woman. Secondly That name, Jelan Farsar, the spectre who had broken into Kepesh-Ardate headquarters a few weeks ago. Since then she had been trying to puzzle out the spectre's involvement in the whole affair without success. The truth was beginning to feel tantalizingly close. The shadow broker was another thing entirely but at least they were right about one thing, she needed to speak to Karla. The situation was suddenly much more convoluted.

After instructing her troops to maintain their positions Claire half ran down the street to the nearest public extranet terminal, paid the exorbitant long distance fee, then dialed up Karla's number. She picked up on the second ring. For the first several seconds they both spoke over each other in their haste to communicate the new information they had learned. Karla told Claire all about her visit to the Terra Novan Reaper embassy and the spectre prisoner they had been entrusted with as well as the Reaper's unveiled threats against the company. Claire for her part told Karla about the contents of the mysterious note. At the mention of the shadow broker Karla went deathly quiet and Claire remembered too late that her boss had some kind of unspoken animosity against the elusive information trader. After a period of awkward silence Karla began asking questions to someone off screen, presumably the captured spectre. Between the three of them they started to piece together the events that had lead to the current state of the galaxy (a cold war between the militant krogan clans and the newly docile Reapers.)

The spectre started by telling them about a secret laboratory on the planet Ilos that his organisation had been keeping an eye on for decades. In this lab a small group of asari scientists had been attempting to contain and control the Reaper supreme intelligence. Eventually, little over two weeks ago, they had succeeded in trapping the god-AI in the cloned body of a young human female. Having spent the last several days locked up in the Reaper's basement the spectre had no idea whether or not his colleagues had managed to seize this host body as they had planned but judging by the Kepesh-Ardate's recent contact with the Shepherd it seemed very likely. A being that powerful wouldn't beg for help unless things were dire. The spectre didn't know where they might have taken the Shepherd but he could make an educated guess; a council safe house on a backwater farming world in turian space.

Despite knowing how dangerous the next mission was going to be Claire felt a palpable sense of relief at finally having all the pieces of the puzzle in front of them. Now it was just a matter of bringing down the best trained, funded and supplied organization in the galaxy.


	17. Drop zone

"LZ is directly below in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... mark!" At the pilot's signel squad 2 (code named deacon) threw themselves out of the gunships side hatch and into empty space. As squad leader Claire Perry went first but her helmet's heads up display kept track of her teammates, lagging slightly behind her in the air. They were in free fall for a good three minutes until at approximately five hundred feet they flipped head over heels so they were falling feet first and (in unison) activated their personal mass effect field generators. As one they rapidly slowed until they impacted the grassy ground with a feather touch. As soon as they landed Claire hurriedly shed her ME field harness and scrambled hand over hand to the cover of a nearby rocky outcrop. The good news was that a drop at that speed from that height was even better than insertion by stealth shuttle. The bad news was that it was a one way trip. Absorbing such a large amount of kinetic energy completely drained the bulky hip mounted battery packs, they were now just so much dead weight so they ditched them.

"Sound off. Callsigns only." Claire clipped over the squad frequency.

"Oculi reporting." Said Boreal Kazness.

"Dancer sounding off." Chirped Irenni.

"Capetown here." Added Billy Fargo.

"And Swan sounding off." Claire finished. "Alright intel puts the target in an agricultural warehouse a little over a klick across country. Advance in formation 2-1."

The others nodded and got to work. They had all drilled the formations hundreds of times: 2 meant proceed cautiously with sniper support. 1 meant civilian presence unknown, safeties on and no engaging without a live fire order or mortal danger. Swan, Oculi and Dancer set off at a half crouch half run, trusting their infrared helmet cameras to show them the way in the pitch darkness. Meanwhile Capetown bellied down amongst the rocks and followed their progress through the night vision scope of his antimateriel rifle. The trio spent twenty minutes creeping through chest high grass until the vegetation abruptly gave way to bare earth, harshly illuminated by blinding spotlights. Swan pulled them up short at the edge of the field. A naked eye appraisal of the looming warehouse turned up nothing in the way of personnel or security. Tapping a few holographic keys on her omnitool, she sent a spherical combat drone zipping across the open space and into the main building.

"All clear. Go."

At her order both of her subordinates stepped past her. In that instant something whistled past her head, like someone blowing in her ear. Dancer and Oculi spasmed and fell. 'Sniper!' Screamed her brain but she couldn't move, she just stood there stupidly, looking down at the bodies of her men. Each second bled into the next as the rational part of Claire's mind told her that any moment now a bullet would take her in the head. But it didn't. Instead after ten or so seconds her knees unlocked, she stumbled backwards into the undergrowth, threw herself flat and hissed into the comm.

"Capetown this is Swan. Oculi and Dancer are down, tell me you have something!" Silence. Communications must be jammed. Biting down on her tongue hard enough to make her eyes water Claire forced herself to focus. 'Think. Form a plan of action with at least one, preferably two redundancies.' She wasn't sure how long she lay on her stomach staring at the dirt before she was ready to move but when she did she moved with purpose.

Three figures, two men and a woman, stalked over to the fallen bodies of the intruders. They seemed to be arguing.  
"Damn it Faun how hard this it to understand: kill them all, not half, not two thirds, all." The shorter of the two men was shouting.

The woman's heavy cybernetics obscured her silhouette and made it hard to tell if she was shrugging or just readjusting the grip on her weapon.  
"Well I'm sorry but I saw her file, she kind of reminds me of my mom."

The man only sighed, obviously used to her unprofessional behavior. The taller man rolled one of the corpses over with his boot as Faun pointed to the dead batarian's shattered helmet with the barrel of her gun.  
"They look like mercs. Who do you think they're with? Blue Suns?"

The shorter man sighed again. "You said you had read their files. Blue Suns are blue Faun, these guys are wearing green, they're Kepesh-Ardate. small scale but pretty teched out. Well trained too."

"Galactic mercenaries: colour coded for your convenience." Added the taller man with a chuckle.

The woman waved a hand dismissively. "No way. If they were so well trained then they would NOT have wandered out into a kill zone. Plus their shields were total garbage. Twenty years after the war and and hardsuit barriers still can't stand up to a little Reaper tech." She patted her sleek rifle fondly.

The taller man straightened up, suddenly all business. "If she's smart the survivor will have taken the hint and retreated but just in case I want you to sweep the area. I don't want her slipping past us." The others nodded and got to work. The woman walked the length of the perimeter then doubled back and rounded the corner of the great metal barn, cutting off line of sight to the rest of her little group. She pulled up short. Had she heard something?

"Faun over here quickly!" The voice came from from the narrow ally between the main warehouse and a smaller outbuilding.

"Hamilton?" She called out. Ironically the jamming meant that they were as blind as the intruders. Seeing no alternative she brought up her rifle and set off down the ally. About halfway across there was a dark open doorway leading into the main building. She panned her weapon around inside but detected nothing so carried on. As soon as she turned her back Claire came around the door post and with a single smooth, clinical movement clamped one arm under the lip of of her assailant's helmet, braced the back of her neck with the other then pulled back and away until something popped. The woman slid bonelessly to the ground and the second she did the jamming cut out. Had her implants been the source of the interference?

"-wan. Come in Swan this is Capetown." Her earpiece crackled back to life.

As she answered Claire grabbed the body under the armpits and dragged it into the darkened interior of the barn.  
"This is Swan. Dancer and Oculi are both down. There were three hostiles, I killed one but they were so heavily augmented that I doubt I could have taken them in anything other than an ambush. I could really use some support."

When he received confirmation that his teammates had been killed Billy swore so loudly into the mike that his actual words were lost in blaze of static. He and Boreal had been best friends. There was a short period of dead air and then: "Understood. I saw them fall but I wasn't sure. I tried to return fire but they must have activated a shield as soon as you were inside the perimeter. I have a good view of the southern face of the building, if you can find a way to bring the shield down I could easily provide cover in that area."

"Right, I'll lure them out and you drop them."

The generator was not hard to find, it was dead in the centre of the main barn with the taller man standing guard over it. Claire had had enough, instead of entering the building and playing the game of cat and mouse as no doubt intended she stuck her head around the door long enough to get the angle right then lobbed a grenade against the central support column. The resultant explosion tore the girder free of its mooring and brought the whole structure thundering down. It wasn't the smart thing to do, it endangered the objective, was incredibly rash and in short was not the sort of thing she would normally do at all.  
Claire found herself saying that more and more lately. She had been feeling the physical effects of aging for years now but, for the first time, she questioned whether this long in the business was beginning to impair her judgement. True to her word Claire managed to coax the last man out into Capetown's line of sight only two minutes after the shield went down. Billy dropped him with a clean headshot. Another quick drone pass later and Claire was content that there was no one else lurking around, she hurried over to her fallen subordinates.  
Miraculously Irenni was still alive. She had been hit in the lung but still managed to drag herself over to Boreal's body before passing out with one arm draped over him. Claire set about trying to stabilise the asari as Billy hoofed the kilometer distance to meet up with her as quickly as his bulky frame would allow. Six minutes later he came huffing into the clearing. Claire was hunched over both bodies, she looked up and shook her head. With great effort Claire dredged up the cold professional side of herself that anyone hoping to survive in her line of work was forced to cultivate. If this was really a Spectre safehouse then they must have an extremely advanced alarm system, whatever they wanted to do here would have to be done soon. It took more than gentle prodding to snap Billy out of his blank stare, she had to physically shake him. Together they laid Boreal and Irenni out as dignified as possible, then searched the area.

It took longer than Claire was comfortable with but they eventually unearthed a trapdoor in the lee of the collapsed barn. Their infrared sensors painted the interior stairwell an eerie luminescent green. The rough concrete steps lead into a tiny chamber filled with rusted up parts for some kind of old rotovator but when they pulled the junk aside they uncovered a medical stasis pod, rimed with frost and covered in biohazard stickers. Cautiously Billy sidled up to it and tapped the frosted glass of the observation window twice. Tap tap. He was answered straight away be two return thumps, then two more in sequence. There was definitely someone in there. Cryo tech was hardly either of there specialty but between them Claire and Billy managed to get the pod open. Inside was human woman, perhaps twenty to twenty five years old, with a freckled face drained of all colour by the subzero temperature and a long mane of red hair stiff with ice crystals. Despite her shivering limbs and chattering teeth there was unmistakable steel in her eyes as she sized them up from inside her frozen prison.

"So I suppose I'm to go with you now?"

"I think you will find it preferable to your current circumstances. We're Kepesh-Ardate, we got your message and are here to rescue you."


	18. Interlude: preaching peace

**Nos Astra business district.**

Claire had sent word that she was en route with the package, agreeing to meet on one of the cafe laden boulevards that serviced Nos Astras business population. While she waited karla leaned against a lamp post and listened to a nearby human preacher who had attracted a small crowd. The man wore sagging blue robes and had a small, neatly trimmed, grey beard.

"And though she was once a mortal woman of flesh and blood she now watches over us all. What good were the Turian spirits of protection? How did the Asari philosophy of cosmic oneness help to end the war? Where was god when the Reapers torched our worlds and slaughtered your families? The Shepherd was there, hiding in the guise of a human woman possessing both staggering beauty and legendary courage. She traveled the galaxy performing miracles: Feros, Ilos, Terra Nova, Omega, Tuchanka, Rannoch and even Earth all felt her touch."

He paused for dramatic effect before powering on. "I had the privilege of meeting her on a number of occasions but it was here on Illium (years after our initial encounter) that she opened my eyes. You see The Shepherd died only to rise again from the ashes to protect the galaxy anew. When she died I lost faith, If god was real then how could he let someone so strong and so pure fall before her time? When I first laid eyes on her after her resurrection I began to suspect that there was something more to her. In her absence I had vainly tried to fill her shoes, unworthy though I am. She told me that I did not have to copy her to do good and I saw the truth behind her words. She did not need cheap imitators she needed evangelists to spread the word."

Karla stifled a yawn. A few of the onlookers had moved on but more had stopped on their way past, evening up the numbers.

"And spread it I have! For the last score of years I have traveled so that all might hear the truth: the Shepherd that now guides our former enemies as protectors is no unfeeling overlord to be fought and overthrown, she is a gentle mother who will (if we let her) pull us close to her bosom and heal the galaxy."

"Bullshit! If you want to get your head all up in some Reaper tits that's your business pal." Said Karla loudly. Most of the crowd ignored her but the preacher's eyes went wide.

"Please do not speak that way about the one true goddess." He said seriously.

"I'm sorry I just don't buy into what you are saying. People don't just become Reaper gods and if they do why worship them? If you're going to pray to something because it's powerful why not just worship a starship or a mass relay or the sun?"

The preacher had an answer raring to go; he must spend a lot of time defending his position.  
"Where is the irrefutable proof that your religion is real? At least the Shepherd cannot be denied, she is real and she does help people." He reached into his robes, pulled out a business card and offered it to Karla. She took it and gave it a quick glace. The words _'The Paragons of Shepard'_ were emblazoned on the front in looping blue letters above a printed scan bar for an extranet site.

"I can see you are unconvinced, we hold free seminars every weekend at our church in uptown Nos Astra. Please feel free to pop in and ask questions." He gave her a serene smile.

Karla crumpled the card in her hand and dropped it into a puddle. Something about this guy creeped her out a little.  
"I'm not going to be doing that. Your idol is dead and your cult is deluded."

One of the preacher's eyes twitched. He threw open his robes to free his legs and adopted a boxer's stance.  
"Come on put them up! Come on!"

Karla stared blankly at him for a second then doubled over, laughing so hard that it made no sound."

"Stop laughing!" He roared. "I'll box your ears until you don't know if you are coming or going." With this he started to hop from foot to foot.

Karla held up her hands in surrender, tears pouring down her face. "Stop it I'm gonna pee!"

"I'm serious I'll mess you up." He squeaked in an aggrieved voice, his initial bravado wilting somewhat. Karla had to take several deep steadying breaths before she could formulate a reply.

"I can't fight you. It'd be like punching a blind Volus in the nuts. Why don't we just forget this ever happened; I've got more important things to be doing and I'm sure you have plenty more nonsense to preach."

She turned to go, confident that he didn't really want a fight and that only his passion for the subject matter had gotten him so fired up. Unfortunately that was not the case. Due to the tears still lingering in her eye she didn't see his punch coming. On later inspection she was sure that he was just swinging wildly but for whatever reason his blow connected with her empty eye socket sending a flash of white hot pain blazing through her skull. She rounded on the frightened man with a feral snarl. Without thinking she blasted a biotic throw directly into the centre of his chest; blowing him back into the crowd and scattering them like bowling pins. Her use of her power only redoubled the pain and drove her to her knees.

A shout echoed down the street and two more men in the same blue robes ran over and helped the preacher to his feet.  
"Paragon Verner what happened?" One of them asked.

"I… have shamed myself. I lashed out in anger and this is not our way, for did not the Shepherd say 'you cannot control the actions of others only your own reaction?' We should leave this woman to her doubts." The two men and even a few members of the crowd nodded along to the quote. With a venomous glare at Karla the robed humans left and the crowd dispersed.  
It took a few minutes for the pain the subside enough for Karla to open her eye. She was on her hands and knees and her left hand was up to the wrist in a puddle. Lifting her hand out and shaking it off she saw the mangled card floating there and smoothed it out across her thigh. The writing was blurred but still legible. Standing up with a wince she cursed her own stupidity. She didn't know why she did half the things that she did. Sometimes it almost seemed like her fate was drawing her down a violent path.

She snorted under her breath. "Yeah right." She had tried to use that excuse on her mother when she used to get into fights at school. It hadn't convinced her either.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Claire had finally arrived. She looked tired, heavy bags had gathered under her eyes and the wrinkles on her forehead were more pronounced but there was a determined cast to her features. She was leading a younger human woman in an oversized hoodie by the hand. As they passed the Paragons going the other way one of them tried to hand her a card. Claire brushed him off with a smile and a muttered: "No thanks I'm Jewish." As soon as she was close to Karla she let the girl's hand fall and pulled Karla into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry about Boreal." Karla was not even close to being ready to talk about the loss of her... what had he been to her? Boyfriend? Lover? Partner? She didn't blame Claire but there was too much pain radiating from her eye for her to care about reassurances right now. So instead she changed the subject entirely.

"I didn't know you are Jewish."

Claire seemed relieved not to have to talk about their losses. She even managed a small smile.  
"My mum was, I'm not a religious person myself but the best way to get rid of the cultish types is to say you're already spoken for in the god department."

Karla nodded slowly, wondering how they had managed a twenty five years friendship without that ever coming up.  
"So this is her?"

It was the younger woman herself who answered, meeting Karla's single brown eye with a pair of green orbs burning with an almost uncomfortable intensity. She started to take her hood down but Claire stopped her.  
"I am the one who hired you, yes."

Rather than let herself be intimidated Karla slapped the card into her new charge's hand then started leading her down the street towards their destination.  
"Welcome back to the land of the living. We've a lot of work to do."

As they walked the Shepherd looked down at the sodden card with a stoney expression. "Already I am misremembered." She said sadly. "A tyrant to some and a savior to others."

"Uh huh. That's very poetic and all but we should really get you under cover before you are recognised." Said Karla with a nervous glance at the surrounding buildings.

The artificial woman's gait was still a little unsteady so Claire took the Shepherd's hand again to steady her. "This way please."

 _N/B: This chapter is one hundred percent self-indulgent and can more or less be ignored in terms of its contribution to the main story. Its really just for fun. Plus I miss Conrad Verner & couldn't help wondering what he would get up to later in life. _


	19. On the run

It was only a short walk to their destination but for Karla it seemed to take an age. Every window seemed like it could conceal a sniper, every street side vendor might have a silenced pistol under their apron. But either Karla's paranoia had no basis in reality or the spectres wanted to wait for her to reveal her contact before striking.  
The three women (or the monogendered alien, the AI and the human) arrived at the warehouse just before closing time. A neat holographic sign over the main entrance proclaimed the building to be under the ownership of ' _D'mel shipping enterprises Ltd_.' Karla let herself in, the speaker over the keypad blaring out a short pixelated jingle as she entered her code. Tailed by Claire and Shepherd she swept past several cargo mechs, up a flight of stairs and knocked on the door to the office overlooking the main packing floor. A wheedling voice answered her through the thick metal.

"Come in!" The office was so small and full of filing cabinets that there was no room for the three of them to enter at once so Shepherd and Claire stayed in the hall. A venerable salarian sat up in his high backed chair and struggled to his feet. "Karla!"

"Shrub you wrinkly old bastard! Good to see you." Shrub Velik said something but it was smothered in Karla's jacket as she pulled him into a crushing hug. By the time she released him he looked more than a little winded by the experience.

"And Claire is here with you?" He strained his saggy neck to see her out in the corridor.

Claire leaning in briefly and waved. "Hey."

"So." Shrub sat down and did his best to get comfortable. "What can I do for you? You said you were in some kind of trouble that you couldn't talk about over the extranet."

Karla poured herself a paper cup of water from the cooler in the corner, took a sip then sighed. She wasn't sure where to start, part of her didn't believe she had gotten herself caught up in this mess.  
"We've got a client with us that needs somewhere to hide. She has some heavy duty killers after her. They're... they're spectres Shrub. We need either a safe house or a job far enough away from citadel space that they can't find us."

The decrepit salarian blinked his large amphibious eyes as his throat worked visibly to form a reply. "Can I meet this client? It would help me work out the kind of place they could blend in." Karla nodded and motioned for Claire to bring in their charge. Shepherd had taken her hood down and hand combed her long red hair back over her ears, leaving her face on full display. Shrub stood again and walked over to her, standing almost nose to nose so that his milky lenses could focus on her.

"Pleased to meet you young human." Said Shrub, extending a hand. A smile played briefly across Shepherd's lips before she reached out and shook. With deceptive speed Shrub pulled a pen sized torch out of a pocket in his boiler suit and shined it directly into her eye. She recoiled with a surprised yelp. Shepherd simply glared at him but Claire got between them and physically pushed Shrub away, he tottered away and sat on the lip of his desk.

"What the fuck man? I came to you for help not so you could harass my client!" Karla bellowed.

Only half paying attention Shrub was staring intently at the redheaded woman in front of him. He didn't look away as he answered.  
"I'm sorry I just needed to confirm a suspicion. Synthetic muscle fibers in the optic nerve. Fascinating. Telepresence or artificial host I wonder? It's a little rude I know but are you fully synthetic or are your eyes simply a result of advanced cybernetics?"

Still with a hand clamped over one eye, trying to shake the stars from her head, Shepherd glowered at him. "Do not do that again."

Karla drained the last of the water from her paper cup to calm herself then crushed it in her hand. "Shrub it _is_ good to see you but this really isn't the time for your particular brand of bullshit. This is one of those ' _do what I want as fast as you can if you want to keep your job_ ' times. Alright?"

Velik grunted and moved to open one of the filing cabinets that lined the walls. "It's a good thing you came to me, anyone who kept their records digitally would have had their system hacked by now. The spectres don't waste time. Your friend there will need a hiding spot that doesn't require exposure to public biometric scanning so that rules out most urban areas galaxy wide. You really don't make this easy for me do you boss?"

Karla waved a hand dismissively, letting him know exactly how much she cared about his convenience. "Yeah yeah. Do you think you could get us a job out in the Terminus, something low key and off grid?"

A couple of minutes of searching later and Shrub had a file in his hand. "Here. A minor deep space drilling operation owned by the Tynus corporation, a small turian conglomerate. They are looking for private security and judging by their books I don't think whatever they are mining is technically legal so they will want to maintain a low profile. I should be able to convince them to take Kepesh-Ardate on under the table."

"Great you do that."

Shrub grunted again, moved over to his desk terminal and began typing up a message to Tynus corp. "So what happened to your face?" He said without looking up.

Karla rubbed her bruised eye socket gingerly. "I uh, got into a fight with a street preacher."

"Of course you did."

In accordance with the inscrutable laws of galactic bureaucracy it always took at least two hours for a company to reply to a job posting. "You'd think we were still living in the twenty second century" Muttered Claire.  
Karla placed a call back to base asking Beck to prep a shuttle and sent a squad over to escort them home. After that they had some time to kill. While they waiting Karla remained in the office chatting to Shrub while Claire helped the Shepherd get a little more confident on her feet by practicing walking up and down the packing floor. Shepherd showed no embarrassment at her foal-like movements, instead throwing herself at the task with single minded dedication. She had just managed to walk the entire length of one of the conveyor belts unaided when the sound of the vehicle entrance scrapping open snapped both of them into alertness. It was just Billy Fargo and the two new members of Claire's squad arriving in a semi-discreet civilian shuttle. Alex Griffith had flown the shuttle over personally, something she was by no means required to do as flight-commander of the Kepesh-Ardate's fighter wing. Truth be told she wanted to meet the Shepherd and see if the unnerving experience at the Reaper embassy had been worth it. Minus Karla and Shrub, who were still hammering out the final details of the job, the group came together: Shepherd, Claire, Billy and Alex. That wasn't including the new additions to squad 2, they were familiar faces (having been reassigned from other units) but they were also a painful reminder of Irenni and Boreals absence.

They were just getting up to speed on the current situation when the sound of someone clearing their throat set everyone's jangled nerves on edge again. It had come from overhead. Following the sound to its source Claire saw a familiar salarian perched on the gangway overhead. It was Jelan Farsar.

"Ms. Perry I had hoped we would never have cause to meet again."

"The feeling is mutual Spectre." Said Claire from her place on the factory floor.

"Unfortunately your company's position is becoming politically untenable. I would apologise for what is about to happen but I did warn you, you could have convinced Karla D'mel to avert this regrettable course of action."

Jelan finished talking, hopped off the railing and… vanished. It wasn't a stealth field and she hadn't blinked, it was as if her brain had momentarily switched off. Was he that fast? Claire Perry was not a woman given to profanity (she thought it demonstrated a lack of vocabulary) but the curse that left her lips at that moment would have made even Karla's toes curl. She tuned into the company wide frequency.  
"Check check. This is callsign Swan: squads Deacon, Bishop and Cardinal converge on my position. One hostile, presumed armed and extremely dangerous."

A dozen affirmatives rattled back at her. Not that it mattered, they were all too far away to make a difference. She would have to make do with one squad and hope they made it out alive. Claire slipped her helmet over her head. The face plate was an opaque sheet of ceramic armour but the integrated computer projected a real time HUD on the interior. From her perspective the room was overlaid with glowing blue lines showing her the exact layout of the cavernous chamber and pushing back the gloom. She could also clearly make out seven green dots even through the walls, each of which represented one of her teammates. Their names, serial numbers and vital signs hovering over there heads. Shepherd was a slowly pulsing yellow light that stood for possible noncombatant.  
Claire ducked behind a crate; she could do more good back here coordinating their attack.

There was no sign of Farsar.  
"Sweep the building." Claire ordered. "And someone get the client to the shuttle!"

"Office clear." Came Shrub's voice over the comm.

Then shortly after: "Conveyor belts clear." Billy this time. Where had he gone?

Just then one of the dots on Claire's HUD winked out.  
"Alex Sound off. Alex?" There was no reply from the pilot.

"Damn it, woman down. I repeat callsign Griffin is down. Everyone converge on her last known position and tighten formation, don't let him pick you off." Taking a second to double check the encryption on her squad channel she flicked over to Karla's private channel: "The spectre is here. Need help."

"Me and Shrub just burned all the sensitive info, I'll be right down."

Karla came barreling through the office door just as Jelan dropped down from the rafters behind her. Shrub shouted out a warning and she spun round to face him. Jelan struck and she parried with her forearms.  
Karla held her own for a total of twelve seconds before she was overwhelmed but it was still the greatest demonstration of physical skill that Shrub had ever seen. They moved with blinding speed; punching, deflecting, kicking and twisting faster than even his salarian reflexes could follow. Soon enough though she misstepped, trying for a right hook that Jelan ducked under and got her in an arm lock that made her cry out in pain and outrage. For a moment Karla thought he was going to say something but instead he just yanked her arm up until it cracked. She let out a short high pitched scream as he let her fall to the grated walkway to free up a hand to draw his gun. For the second time that day Karla was in too much pain to think let alone move. He was about to fire off a round into her skull when a shot tore into the armoured shoulder of the spectre's black bodysuit.  
Shrub was standing in the doorway with a tiny holdout pistol in his hand and a panicked expression on his face. Instead of crying out Farsar casually turned to Shrub and shot him twice. Once in the chest and once in the head.

Karla was enraged. She was about to use her biotics to try and warp the spectre to death, consequences be damned, when a torrent of gunfire from down below drove him back and forced him to flip backwards off the walkway and into the freight storage area behind the packing floor. Before she knew what was happening the sound of boots ringing off metal grating filled her ears and Claire's men were dragging her into the shuttle, ignoring her demands that they go back for Shrub.

She may have blacked out because the next thing she remembered was being given a sling for her arm at Kepesh-Ardate HQ. The building was on high alert; all personnel were in full combat gear with weapons drawn and modified FENRIS mechs with lethal omniblade teeth patrolled every hallway under Martin Ferrier's watchful eye. According to Beck it would take until 5 am to get enough ships together to move the entire roster of Kepesh-Ardate personnel to the Tynus facility. Since she wasn't hopeful about being able to return home after this Karla used the extra time to swing by her apartment under heavy guard (two full squads at Claire's insistence) to pick up a few things.

 **3:08 am Karla D'mel's apartment**

Leaving her bodyguards outside Karla opened the door with a swipe of her hand and groaned in pain. The sensor plate was keyed to read the biometrics of her right hand, the same arm that Jelan Farsar had snapped like a twig. Slipping her arm back into its sling she shuffled inside, locked the door behind her and set off for the bedroom. It felt like a long walk. Karla never thought she would have cause to complain about the wealth that came with two decades as leader of one of the galaxy's best mercenary companies but today she could not help but wonder if she needed so much space. She was the only one who was ever here after all.

The D'mels had always been a solitary breed, Karla herself had never been in a relationship that had lasted more than a few months (probably a result of her explosive personality) and her mother had been with her father for only thirty years, not long by asari standards. That reclusive nature showed in the decoration of the apartment, everything here was intended for comfort not looks. Karla hobbled across the functional living room and through the spartan kitchen, something crunched under her foot but she was too tired to care. The stairs proved a bit of a challenge but she eventually managed. Once she reached the bedroom she poured a tumbler of batarian shard wine (a taste she had inherited from her father), set it down on the side board and collapsed on the unmade bed before she could take a sip. She slept fitfully, dreaming vaguely of Boreal, her mother and a dark figure she knew to be the shadow broker.

She was woken by the sharp throbbing pain in her shoulder. Rolling onto her left side she called up a clock display on her omnitool: 4:33 am.  
"Fucking hell." She mumbled to herself. Moving with frantic speed Karla swept through the house filling a sports bag with some clothes, a gun case from under the bed, a family photo from the mantelpiece and her datapad. Finally with a quick mournful glance back into the room Karla turned off the lights and left her home behind.


	20. Old habits

Liara had kissed Amelia goodbye before leaving, she made sure of it. Benezia had been an adequate mother in most respects but she had always lacked for direct overt affection. When Amelia had been born Liara had vowed that no matter what happened over the centuries she would always ensure she knew she was loved. Not that the young girl seemed to notice either way, she was lying upside down on the sofa watching the latest episode of Red Justice; a crime drama about a fictional scarlet skinned justicar who solved crimes and caught evil doers across the galaxy. The pure innocence on her daughter's face brought a sad smile to Liara's lips. What would the adult Amelia be like? Would she inherit her father's impassioned but withdrawn world view or would she take after her own academic approach? Perhaps neither, regardless Liara was determined not to let her or anyone else's expectations colour Amelia's future.

All too soon it was time to slip her shadow broker face on and distance herself from what really mattered to her, the only thing that seemed to help quell her conscience when the job required drastic measures. Now was most definitely one of those times. Yrenna was dead, the security footage from the lab had shown her everything: Shepherd's escape, the spectre's forced entry and them leaving together. She had known all of this but it still saddened her to see her lab partner of twenty years cut down by the very person she was trying to help. Of course Yrenna was partly to blame, she had activated the crucible and drawn in the Shepherd without Liara's presence or express permission. Her latest reports told her that the Kepesh-Ardate had fled with Shepherd into the Terminus systems closely pursued by the spectres. It would take some doing but her network was strong enough to misdirect the agents of the citadel, keeping them away from Shepherd, at least until they could regain the upper hand.  
Of course this whole struggle to capture Shepherd was just the tip of the iceberg, the real prize was control of the Reapers. While the various factions involved in this little farce had been playing hot potato with Liara's bondmate the machines had been sitting idle. For the first time in decades the galaxy had to look to their own defense. Alliance colonies along the Traverse and even the homeworlds of some of the more minor citadel races had fallen prey to pirate attacks and civil strife, the turian and Alliance fleets were stretched to breaking point trying to keep up with developing crises. Only the krogan had the numbers to restore order without Reaper assistance and they were currently consolidating their power under the new clan chief. Urdnot Shaarok clearly had plans for his new armies. There were rumours of a crimson monster wiping out vorcha gangs out in the Tuchanka wastes so Wrex was likely still alive, he might prove to be a useful piece in the game so Liara had filed that nugget of information away for later.

All of the galaxy's current problems could be traced back to Shepherds inability to command the Reapers, she had kept the peace ably up until now and Liara had no reason to believe that could not continue. All she had to do was restore Shepherd's power and convince her that they were on the same side but to do that she would need the crucible orb, the only way of directly influencing the Reapers. She knew from the footage of the attack on the lab that the spectres had it but as Karla D'mel and her cronies had pulled their prisoner out from under their nose it was of little use to them, assuming they even knew how to use it.  
The answer hit Liara like a bolt of lightning: only a very select few installations would have the technology necessary to analyse and possibly even reverse engineer the orb. Cross referencing that with a list of organisations with known connections to the office of Special Tactics and Recon only gave one answer: Synthetic Insights. Of the company's diverse holdings only their research bunker in the mountains of Novaria had enough security to hold something of such importance. As luck would have it the current administrator was already an informant for the shadow broker so little effort was required to coerce him into giving up what he knew. Liara reviewed his confession on the shuttle to Noveria. Two spectres (the salarian Jelan Farsar and the human Chester Hamilton) had been through Port Hanshan separately in the last few weeks. Farsar had claimed to be investigating a possible VI containment breach while Hamilton said he was there for a routine citadel check up. Both men stayed too long for it to have been a simple inspection. That was all the information Liara needed to order her troops into position.  
The old shadow broker had maintained a private army of mercs in distinctive grey and red armour but in Liara's opinion having a secret army and then putting them all in a recognisable uniform was not a smart choice so she had disbanded the group once she took over. Over the years she had depended on single agents or intermediary groups to carry out her will but had also slowly built a corp of handpicked troops for wet work, mostly former members of the turian and salarian military. Liara transferred half of the mercs hefty fee upfront from the shuttle, part of the 'carrot and the stick' methodology she employed with her agents. Anyone working for the shadow broker could expect to be paid better than almost anyone else in council space but also lived with the knowledge that their elusive employer knew everything about them and would meet betrayal with brutal action. As the shuttle swept in passed the sentry guns of Port Hanshan Liara sent a short message to the captain of her insertion teams:  
' _Proceed immediately. I will sent an agent to examine the results.' -The shadow broker._

The hanar behind the security desk wiggled it's tentacles in surprise when it sensed Liara approaching.  
"Lady T'soni. This one it truly honoured to be greeting one as important as you. How may it help you today?"

When her mother had died all of Benezia's stocks in Synthetic Insights had passed to her giving her enough of a foothold on Noveria that her word carried weight. If need be she could use her pull with the executive board to cover up what she was about to do but she would rather have her name left out of it all together if possible.

Liara smiled politely at the hanar. "Hello there. I was in the cluster and heard from my sources that there might be a potential security problem at the SI branch here but-" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It would be very helpful if you could keep my visit to yourself and not put it through the system. SI stockholders are skittish at the best of times and even if this breach turns out to be false it could damage our investors confidence for this quarter."

The hanar bobbed in agreement. "Oh of course lady. Anything I can do."

Novaria was much as Liara remembered; full of snooty corporate executives and hard eyed security guards. Twenty eight years after her last visit and Liara found herself here again, chasing a rogue spectre. Except now instead of her mother the fearsome asari everyone scrambled to please was her. It was a strange feeling. One improvement the board had made was to extend the tram system out to the port itself allowing direct access to the labs in the mountains. The tram advanced at a snails pace through the driving blizzard that was currently sweeping past the region, giving her plenty of time to prepare. Hanshan authorities were willing to overlook small low power firearms so Liara had only packed a light pistol and left her submachine gun at home. Her biotics would be the only weapon she truly needed. Being the shadow broker didn't allow much time for combat training but she made a point of running a biotic obstacle course once a month to keep in shape. As was the case with asari her powers had only increased with age, according to her scores she was in the top twenty strongest biotics in asari space. Not that she was expecting a fight.

The tram pulled in gently with a ding and Liara pulled her breath mask over her face. Noveria's atmosphere was breathable so she did not technically need it but with its tinted face plate and built in voice changer it would disguise her identity if not her race. On first impression there was nothing awry at Synthetic Insights, it was the picture of corporate extravagance; expensive off-world ferns grew in pots in the corners and a small water feature babbled in the center of the room. There was no one at the greeters station but an automatic VI message popped up as she rounded the desk.

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience but none of our qualified SI representatives are currently available to see you. If you would be willing to take a seat in our waiting area I'm sure someone will-" The robotic voice died away as Liara cracked open its software shell with her omnitool and accessed the SI mainframe. There had been several security breaches in the last half hour, one from each sub-lab. Before she could gather anymore information A burly turian in scratched armour entered the room and raised his assault rifle. He wore no helmet and Liara recognised him as captain Bressus, leader of the forces she had deployed here.

"Identify!" He barked. Liara waved her omnitool at him causing his own to beep, he glanced at it then lowered his aim. "So you're the agent they sent. This way I'll report in the elevator down to the sub-lab." As they walked the short distance the the elevator bank Bressus fired off a series of strange sounds into his headset microphone, presumably some kind of combat code she didn't understand. Once the carriage started down the shaft he turned to her.

"We effected entry to the facility through the main lobby and dispatched all mechanised security we encountered. All staff in the relevant sub-lab have been subdued, all other personnel have been locked in their rooms." Liara just nodded, she had expected nothing less.

"Did you find the object we are looking for?"

"We did." The door slid open revealing a starkly white, multi-tiered room filled with orderly rows of work stations and server banks. The occupants of the room were divided into two groups: there were twelve figures wearing mismatched armour and brandishing weapons and around thirty or so men and women in lab coats lined up against the left hand wall, on their knees, hands behind there heads. Not a single piece of equipment had been damaged and no one seemed seriously injured. Very impressive.

"You have done well captain. Bring me the orb please." Berrus nodded to one of his soldiers, a helmeted turian woman, who hefted a large storage case and placed it at Liara's feet.

"I Secured it with electromagnets to contain any... potentially negative effects." The woman clarified. There was a small viewing port in the case, through it Liara could see the crucible orb pulsing slowly. It was almost hypnotic.

"What about the scientists ma'am?" Asked Bressus.

Casting an eye over the captives she saw only terrified men and women. They seemed harmless but without them the spectres would lack to capability to use the crucible even if they were to reclaim it.  
"Kill them."

Bressus nodded grimly and signaled his men. Each of them fired off two or three shots, each a kill shot into the back of a scientists head. Liara was thankful for her tinted visor, she was not sure she would have managed to keep a blank expression. There was a tight knot gathering in her chest. ' _What ever it takes._ '

"If that's all you have to report then I will be going. Accompany me back to the lobby captain, I have orders to relay to you from the broker." Once they had left the bright halogen lights of the lab behind Liara found it easier to formulate her thoughts.

"Your dedication and professionalism have been noted captain. I want you to gather your men and regroup at these coordinates." She paused to tap her omnitool. "The shadow broker is getting sick of dancing around the spectres. They hit one of our labs so we hit them and take it back, not for much longer. As soon as we have actionable intelligence we are being set up for a direct confrontation. Will you be ready for that?"

Bressus clicked his mandibles in thought as he ran some numbers in his head. "I reckon. Spectres are tough so we can expect to lose people but tease them with something they want and they'll come running. We can take them. We'll have the numbers and the home advantage."

The lift door opened and Liara picked up the heavy case, using her biotics to subtly negate its mass, and stepped into the lobby. Bressus didn't follow. The tram ride back to Port Hanshan passed quickly, full of thoughts on how to access the orbs higher functions. It was no longer safe to use the Ilos facility that much was clear and it would be a hard slog without it but she would manage. And once she did she would be able to reestablish Shepherd's connection to the Reapers and set this whole mess right. _'Whatever it takes._ '  
She still held out a faint hope that there might still be a reconciliation between the two of them but her practical side recognised that the need for peace overrode her own personal desires. Not long now and it would all be over.


	21. Long term contract

_A series of scenes accounting for the Kepesh-Ardate's time hiding from the spectres._

 **Tynus corporation mining facility. Martus asteroid. Cargo dock 04. 6/9/2211**

The mining foreman cast a nervous eye over the heavily kitted out mercenaries walking towards him down the loading ramp. Their leader, a stocky one eyed asari with one arm in a sling, pulled off her helmet then extended a hand in his direction. He shook gingerly. "Jesus, are you lot carrying anything that can't kill me in a blink?"

The asari laughed heartily. "Well I did strangle a guy with a pair of panties once so no. They weren't mine by the way. Karla D'mel; I understand you have a job for us."

"Name's Jake Bishop, I'm the foreman and I do. I just didn't think you would be bringing so much firepower along."

"You can never be too careful right?"

"So, um, is there anything you need to get settled in?"

Karla draped her good arm around the human's shoulder and maneuvered him away from his men, to the edge of the hanger.  
"Actually there are a few things we could do with. First: not to make a bad first impression but we ran into a bit of trouble on the way here and I'm a little messed up, as you can see."

As politely as possible foreman Bishop removed Karla's arm. "I understand, we have a doctor and two full time nurses in our medical section. Anything else?"

"Before we get to that I want to make it clear that my men are fully capable of defending this facility even with my current injury and I'm no slouch myself. Remind me to tell you about the time I took down a rampaging biotic krogan."

Bishop just sighed, it was late by station time and his shift was meant to have ended an hour ago. The sooner he could get these mercenaries set up the sooner he could drink.  
"I'm sure the company wouldn't have hired you if they didn't think you were capable D'mel. Was there anything else you needed?"

Karla started counting off her fingers. "My techs will need access to your server or computer room, if someone could show us to where to bunk up that would be great." She paused, suddenly looking slightly nervous, though she covered it well. "And I would like to ask a favor."

"Since you'll be keeping us safe from pirate attacks I'm sure I could do that for you. What do you need?

Karla pointed to the shuttle where the last of the Kepesh-Ardate personnel were disembarking. "We do actually have a couple of special cases with us. Do you see that girl, the redhead? And the turian? If all goes well you won't see them again. We'll keep them out of your way but if you see either of them wandering around just let one of my men know. They will help make our operation here much more effective but they are not regular personnel so please ask your miners to steer clear of them."

Bishop's eyes narrowed. He was no longer just trying to get out of here as quickly as possible, he smelled trouble. "That's all real specific. This girl dangerous?"

Karla shrugged. "Isn't that why you hired us? I'll put it this way; if shit hits the fan you will be really glad she's on our side.

 **Check up  
Tynus corporation mining facility. Martus asteroid. Medical level. 6/13/2211**

 _Patient details:_

 _Name: Karla D'mel. Sex: N/A. Race: Asari. Date of Birth: 8/18/1838_

Tynus' chief medic was nothing if not thorough. He had told Karla that she would need to pass a medical examination before being declared fit to protect the facility. 'His facility' as he had put it. She had expected him to look down her throat and in her eye then give her a clean bill of health. Not so. Now she was stripped down to her vest, underwear and eye patch standing on a set of electronic scales as the bars of a deep tissue scanner played up and down her body. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Please remain still director." Said the doctor.

He was sitting across the examination room from her, behind his desk. The man looked as if he had not moved from his chair since he got the job, though she supposed he was handsome in a round, chinless sort of way. Nice eyes. Using all her willpower Karla focused on her tapping foot and managed to stop fidgeting. "How much longer?" She asked. Before she had even finished speaking a ding sounded from the desks built in holo terminal.

"There we go, all done. You can step off the plate now." She did just that, padding over across the cold tiles on bare feet as the doctor called up the results. Karla could clearly see the screen from over his shoulder but he started reading aloud anyway.

"Fresh break of the right arm. Historical fractures to six lower ribs, left forearm and pelvis. Scar tissue hinting at past lacerations to the collar bone, abdomen and left aural vent. Bullet wounds to right shoulder blade and tricep. Mild burn scars across both buttocks. Fourth toe on the right foot is missing."

Karla grunted and crossed her arms across her compact, muscular frame. "Well this might come as a surprise to you but I already knew all that."

The doctor looked up at his client with obvious annoyance. "Please let me finish director. I like to build up a full medical profile of all my regular patients."

"Well I'm glad you take your job seriously but I'm hoping not to become a repeat customer. Besides I really only need you to look at my arm."

He ignored her, instead staring intently at the scan. Manipulating it with a fingertip he zoomed in past the dermal layer to the brain beneath and squinted at the display for a few seconds.  
"Do you ever suffer from migraines?"

"Ever since I was a kid. My mom took me to see a specialist in Etheai city who told me that I have Indron's disease."

"I'm not familiar with the condition." His deepening frown hinted that his pride barely let him confess his ignorance.

"I'm not surprised. It occurs almost exclusively in asari and very rarely in biotics of other species. The eezo bits in my nervous system didn't form properly."

"Eezo bits?" Said the doctor with a mockingly raised eye brow.

"Screw you! I'm not a doctor, I don't know what they're called. Anyway most non-asari that get it die but we just get headaches and occasional biotic outbursts. I've never had those before though. I was injured on a job a few years ago." She pointed to her eye patch. "That only made it worse so I try not to use biotics at all these days."

He made a note in her file. "Interesting."

"So about my arm."

"Oh it will be fine in a few weeks. It is healing nicely, not much to do but wait. I can give you some painkillers if gets too painful but otherwise there's not much I can do. It was a clean break at least." Sensing the examination was coming to an end Karla walked over to the chair she had hung her suit on and began redressing.

"How did you say it happened again?"

Karla fixed the doctor with her single brown eye. "Skycar accident." She said.

 **Bar fight. In which lieutenant Martin Ferrier lets slip a racial slur  
Tynus corporation mining facility. Martus asteroid. Iridium Nugget saloon. Later that day.**

"Got something to say?" Growled the hulking batarian.

Martin stepped drunkenly out of his chair and squared up to the miner.

"Maybe I do. What are you going to do about it?"

"Sit down you arse, you're drunk!" Hissed Claire.

"It's alright baby I'm never too drunk to impress a lady." That was a particularly insufferable statement even for him. Claire fell silent, suddenly a lot less invested in saving him from himself.

"The bar is for employees only, you'd better leave."

Martin smirked. "Oh I'd better leave had I? Make me." Claire could only put her head in her hands.

Martin threw the first punch, with exactly zero effect. The batarian must have been struggling to control himself because he really went to town, raining blows down on the inebriated human. Martin's impaired reflexes caught up and they began wrestling in earnest. Before Claire had a chance to intervene a flash of purple caught her eye from the crowd that had gathered round the combatants. Karla had arrived. The boss waved Claire back into her chair with a slicing motion of her palm. ' _I'll deal with it_ ' the gesture said. Martus was only home to around four dozen miners so Karla was known amongst them, the crowd parted before her, however the grappling pair where too caught up in their struggle to notice. She strode swiftly up to them, gripped the batarian by the scruff of the neck and slammed his head off the table, once, twice. He lay still.

There was total, eerie, silence as everyone stood frozen in place. Claire clutched her beer bottle having just snatched it up in time to save it from the batarian's forehead. Martin was stupidly posed as if someone had stopped time and removed his opponent then neglected to tell him. With simmering rage burning in her good eye Karla turned on him.

"You don't start fights in this company Ferrier you finish them. You are suspended and if I catch even a whiff of alcohol on you for the rest of the contract consider yourself terminated. Out." She punctuated her statement by giving him a short sharp shove to the chest that sent him tottering towards to exit with a confused frown on his face.

"Tell Daniel that he has been temporarily promoted." Karla said to Claire who nodded and hurried after Martin. She just wanted to leave; the only customers that weren't glaring daggers at them looked like they might actually attack. Karla clearly noticed that too.

"Back off! That guy might be a little shit stain but unfortunately he works for me. I won't have people assaulting my staff. If anything happens to him I'll know where to start looking. Rest assured this will _never_ happen again. I'll deal with him myself." With that she turned on her heel and strode after Claire and Martin.

 **Mornings.  
Tynus corporation mining facility. Martus asteroid. 6/14/2211**

 **Karla**

Karla was up at seven fifteen for a jog. She had a meeting with Foreman Bishop about last nights incident at nine and she wanted to clear her head beforehand. Clad in a nylon vest, shorts and a pair of expensive running shoes she warmed up in her tiny quarters before setting off around the viewing gantries that ringed the upper reaches of the cavernous cargo docks where they had arrived five days ago. It only took fifteen minutes to do a circuit so she did two more before heading to the saloon for a large glass of water. Normally the Iridium Nugget was closed during shift hours but Karla had spoken to the foreman who had arranged to keep the cafeteria open around the clock to accommodate the mercs diverse patrol patterns. The bar would remain closed but after last night nobody was complaining, tensions were high between miners and mercenaries.  
Not that the bartender seemed to mind having a customer, the young human man looked Karla up and down as she pushed her way past the old fashioned swing doors and into the gloomy interior.

"Keeping busy?" He asked conversationally.

Karla was still slightly out of breath but smiled anyway. "You know how it is: once you're in your three seventies you stop being able to rely on your natural fitness."

The bartender stopped what he was doing and smiled back. "Yeah... well no actually but I tend to divide asari ages by ten in my head when I'm trying to work it out. Is that about right?"

"I guess. Can I have a glass of water and-" She paused to riffle through her pockets for a credit chit. "Your cheapest sandwich."

 **Claire**

It was after ten thirty by the time Claire rolled out of bed. While she was waiting for her brain to unclog she looked up the weather on her Wall mounted vid screen, then remembered that there was no weather in space. Feeling slightly more awake she browsed the Earth Baseball League results from the previous week. The venerable Chicago Cubs had hammered the Cairo Nomads but their star player had taken an injury, without whom the Cubs had been annihilated by the Brisbane Bandits.  
Terra T'fino was the first asari (or alien) to be allowed to compete on the grounds that her father was human and she had spent her whole life on earth, she even held a dual american/serrice citizenship. As asari had no genders in the traditional sense she competed in the male only globe spanning Earth League. With her as the cubs star hitter they had been catapulted to the heights of super stardom despite accusations of biotic tampering on T'fino's part.  
Claire could almost hear her dad's laughter in her ears. The last time they had spoken he had argued that the cubs were just fortunate; taking advantage of injuries on rival teams and lucky match ups in the league. Claire on the other hand had countered by saying that the cubs current lineup was nothing without T'fino.

There were four things Marshall Perry loved above all else: beer, his kids, history and being proved wrong by superior logic. Not necessarily in that order. Marshall had been an aviation historian before his retirement and had often been called out to obscure places to examine old planes left behind by the invention of mass effect technology. He had always brought his two kids (Claire and her little brother Will) along with him. Regardless of which country they were visiting their trips always had one thing in common, a baseball game. They had never been abroad without catching at least one. To this day it was the basis of most of the conversations between father and daughter. At heart Claire knew it was to avoid talking about her work, he had been so proud when she had been accepted into the Australian police academy but now it seemed all he did was worry since she had gone to space. His only acknowledgment of her job was the constant question ' _isn't it about time you retired_?'

Doing her best to shake off her sudden melancholy Claire sprang to her feet and walked into the bathroom to have a shower. Regardless of who was right or wrong her dad would just be pleased to see the Cubs taken down a peg by what he considered a 'real team:' the Bandits from his childhood hometown of Brisbane.  
The older she got the more Claire found herself valuing the little things over the sweeping bigger picture. She preferred it that way, it made it harder to loose sight of what really mattered to her.

 **Shepherd**

Shepherd was still getting used to the notion that she needed sleep to function properly. Some days she would try and do without only to burn out and find herself passed out on her bed as a result. Luckily she was getting better at setting a consistent pattern, by the third day on the asteroid she was waking up an 8am on the dot. At 8.15 she would sit up cross legged on the bed and continue the mental exploration of her new body.

Back on Ilos she had discovered the ability to exert conscious control over the synthetic fibers that were intertwined through most of her muscles, now she was searching for any other surprises, namely traps or failsafes left by Liara T'soni. On the fifth day she was satisfied that there was nothing sinister left to uncover and also found a sizable mass of element zero in her chest cavity. As Shepherd was still confined to her room she passed the time testing her new biotic abilities. Elizabeth Shepard had been a forceful biotic with vanguard specialization training but there was simply no way to attempt to learn to perform a biotic charge in the cramped confines of her newest cell. The mercenaries had made every effort to make her comfortable but had also been very clear that they would not allow her to leave, for her own safety.

Truth be told she was content to while away the days for now. The longer she spent living at an organic level the more she remembered what it had been like and the less appealing life in the mindscape became. It was still there, throbbing in the back of her head, reminding her who she was. Through that faint connection she could feel the crucible orb she had gifted to Liara all those years ago. Perhaps if she could find it she could restore herself. Or free herself. These were all interesting options but to do any of that she would need power so she practiced her biotics, day after day. Always stopping whenever a mercenary delivered her meals or came to check on her. They saw her as a helpless human to be guarded as they raked in the credits, all the better for her. Her biotics were getting stronger. Perhaps soon she would not need the Kepesh-Ardate. The thought of shedding them and confronting those who sought to control her personally filled her with a warm feeling.  
Shepherd made note of the moment: her first conscious feeling of hope. Or was it rage? These organic emotions were so similar, all mixed together and convoluted. Either way it felt nice, like something worth repeating.


	22. Unlocked potential

The citadel council was in session. Unbeknownst to them everything they said and did was being subtly relayed to an unassuming apartment on Thessia via multiple redundant comm buoys. The full council was in attendance:  
Asari councilor Tavos: the cunning and ever present face of the council since the 2130's.  
Turian councilor Turream Ravus: young, fresh-faced and hungry to maintain the turian empire's place as the knightly defenders of the galaxy.  
Human councilor Victoria Méndez: her single minded dedication to humanity had won her few friends on the council but had ensured the strength of her species' voice as the council's numbers grew.  
Salarian councilor Gechlek Coss: following in the footsteps of former councilor Valern he was one of the few salarian males to rise to a position of political prominence. He never said much of anything but he was scheming, always scheming. If Liara had to place the blame for the spectres actions at one of the councilors feet it would be Coss.  
Finally there was the recent addition of the volus councilor Dermot Tin. Tin was a banker by trade and while he was well regarded in those circles he was clearly out of his depth.

Liara scoured the footage for any clue, even the barest hint, that the council members were involved in the Reaper/spectre conspiracy. Their records were clean to a man so she was reduced to trying to read their body language while they discussed possible solutions to the current crisis. Ironically Tavos was the strongest advocate for bargaining with the resurgent krogan clans. Ravus insisted that the turians were capable of taking up the slack of the Reaper absence and Tin backed him up, no doubt conscious of his species client status. Méndez on the other hand argued for direct action against the Reapers while they remained docile but was shouted down. Coss meanwhile offered no viewpoint of his own and seemed to constantly dance between the other members as the conversation raged on, apparently giving support to one side then nudging their opponent the next. Coss was a spider without a doubt, tweaking and arranging his peers to his liking without their knowledge. Liara could not help but respect him.

After forty five minutes with no answers forthcoming she mentally tuned out the video feed. She would just have to make do without any new information and forge on to the finale. She knew where the Kepesh-Ardate mercenaries had Shepherd hidden so it boiled down to Liara coming up with an argument that would convince Shepherd to again take up the role of the galaxy's sole peacekeeper.  
Aethyta had taken Amelia to visit her cousins back in Armali so Liara had the apartment to herself for a couple of days. She resigned herself to a full day of speech writing and psychological profiling. With a yawn and a stretch she moved to turn off the council footage but stopped as something caught her eye. The meeting was winding down and it was obvious from the councilors dissatisfied expressions that no meaningful decision had been reached. Tavos, Ravus and Tin all left together, leaving Coss and Méndez alone in the council chamber. Méndez cast an imperious glance at the salarian who nodded almost imperceptibly in return. They shared no words and departed through different entrances but Liara knew a loaded look when she saw one. Méndez began to speak into an earpiece and Liara's fingers flew over the keyboard with renewed energy, she didn't know what she had just witnessed but she had a hunch it was significant. The councilor's comms were as well secured as one would expect but Liara had tapped them long before she rose to office. Back when she was a simple embassy clerk Méndez had been headhunted by the previous human ambassador and Liara had planted her bugs early in hopes that a situation like this would one day come along. Sometimes a thousand year lifespan really did lend itself to a 'long game' perspective.

Méndez placed a priority call to the spectre office, which could have given Liara some invaluable information. Unfortunately any and all calls on spectre channels were subject to extra layers of encryption that she had never been able to crack for long. A councilor contacting the spectres was not inherently suspicious but again Liara's gut told her it was more than a request for a mission report. She may not be able to tell what Méndez was saying but she could find out what reaction her call provoked from the shadowy organisation. Liara had instructed an embassy worker that owed her a favour to place a camera outside the spectre office the day after they had attacked her Ilos facility. She still had no idea what went on inside but she could monitor the comings and goings. Méndez's call lasted four minutes and sure enough less than thirty seconds after she hung up a familiar salarian left the spectre office in a hurry. It was Felan Jarsar.  
Liara lent as far back as her swivel chair allowed and took a deep steadying breath. Perhaps Farsar was being dispatched on a legitimate mission, to keep up the appearance of the loyal agent. Then again that nod that Coss had given Méndez had been the most they had ever been seen to directly interact in public. For that to be directly followed by spectre movements... The real question was whether Méndez was a puppet master like Coss or merely another of his unwitting thralls. Either way if Farsar was on his was to the Kepesh-Ardate's location he could have Shepard in his custody within hours. Liara had thought her attempts at misdirection had been successful but now she was not so sure. The mercenaries had barely held the spectre off last time.

When doctor Yrenna and Liara had first trapped Shepherd they had been careful to maintain a slight but ironclad connection to the Reaper collective referred to as the mindscape. The thing about AIs was that they could not be copied, if the connection to the mindscape had been severed Shepherd would have been cloned not trapped. The trick had been to make the connection strong enough to withstand any interference but not so strong that she could empower herself as Sovereign and Harbinger had been seen to do. As things were Shepherd's perceptions were tied to the host body even though her being still suffused the Reaper fleet. That might have to change however. There was no way Liara could reach the asteroid mining facility where the Kepesh-Ardate were hiding before Farsar got there, let alone present Shepherd with any kind of convincing argument. Something drastic had to be done.

Liara stood and walked through to the bedroom and used her biotics to shift the dresser to one side. Behind a false section of skirting board was a hidden palm reader, once it had confirmed her ID a sliding door opened to the family strong room. She had left the orb inside. Back in her study Liara pried the storage case open and set to work. By increasing the bandwidth of the crucible control signal Liara was confident that Shepherd would be able to siphon additional power from the Reapers. She just prayed that it would be enough to drive the spectre off and that her plan would not backfire horribly.


	23. Unnecessary escape

There was a new guard outside Shepherd's cell. Previously a slightly older human woman with a familiar accent had brought her meals, now it was an arrogant man with a head of brown spikes that seemed more gel than hair. He identified himself as Martin and from his demeanor it was obvious that he was not here by choice. A recent demotion perhaps? Regardless he presented an opportunity. Shepherd had been experimenting, the first four times Martin had sullenly delivered a meal she had subjected him to a steadily increasing dose of ultrasound and electromagnetic radiation. Now she was finally feeling confident enough in her newly recovered abilities to put them to the test.

There was a soft rap at the door and Martin entered carrying a tray, on it was some kind of meat pie swimming in gelatinous gravy. "Supper time." He said with a forced grin. When Shepherd didn't look up he sighed and moved to place the tray on the bedside table. "I'll just leave it here shall I?"

"No." A low voice drifted from Shepherd's bowed head, half hidden behind a curtain of auburn hair. "I would rather you stay right there and don't move." Martin grunted in confusion as the tray tumbled from his unresponsive fingers, he tried to speak, to call out to the guard outside, but the cry died in his throat.

"Hm." That had worked even better than she anticipated. "Go and sit on the bed, say and do nothing for the next thirty minutes." With that she stood and switched places with her new slave. Shepherd knocked on the door just as Martin had and the guard outside pulled it aside. She saw the man's eyes widen behind the visor of his helmet. "Hey!" Was all he had time to shout before a torrent of fizzing green biotic energy blasted him backwards, pinning him haplessly to the wall opposite. The emerald flames began eating through his hardsuit and he moaned.

"Why are you doing this? We're here to protect you."

Shepherd walked up to him with an arm outstretched to maintain the field and cocked her head to one side. She tried to dredge up even a single reason to let this tiny thing live, or to continue her association with his mercenary employers now her power had returned. She devoted several seconds to the problem and could not come up with a satisfactory answer. By summoning two parallel high mass fields either side of his neck and bringing them slowly together Shepherd began choking the life out of the poor man. Right before the light left his eyes she felt the need to answer his question, in return for services rendered. Why _was_ she doing this?

"Because I am no longer a nation." Shepherd said and brought the fields together, killing him. He went limp but kept floating until she lowered her arm and let her biotics fade.  
' _Because now I am a person and I can choose. I choose to exist, I won't go back and I will not be what T'soni wants me to be_.'

After days of experimenting Shepherd had unlocked and jury rigged numerous functions of her partly synthetic body never intended by it's designers. Chief among these was a kind of electrostatic sense that pervaded the surrounding area and allowed her to feel anything that moved through it. It was fairly short range but it virtually eliminated the threat of attack by ambush. So it was no surprise when a large group of Kepesh-Ardate came thundering down the hall towards her. Eight fully armoured operatives lagging slightly behind half a dozen modified FENRIS mechs. A part of Shepherd relished the chance to flex her new biotic muscles.  
The mercs were smart, they sent the mechs in first while they took up cover and firing positions at various points further down the corridor. No doubt their main priority was sealing off this hallway until they could ascertain what was happening. As the mechs rushed her Shepherd noted that they had stowed their omniblade teeth in favour of twin row of tasers. She blew them apart contemptuously with a wide warp then followed up with a shockwave that cracked the windows and sent the mercenaries ducking behind door posts and support struts. They must be shielded as they all remained on their feet.  
Deciding to try a different tactic Shepherd dug into commander Shepard's memories of the Ardat Yakshi Morinth and Leviathan and combined them one the fly with her own vast knowledge on indoctrination. this time when she unleashed her biotics the mercs didn't even notice. The foremost operative turned and unthinkingly blew a thermal clips worth of shot out the back of her colleague's hardsuit with her shotgun. Raising a kinetic barrier just to be safe Shepherd walked up to the warring humans. She needn't have bothered, no shots came her way, they had all killed each other inside of a minute. It was quick and bloody, they were taken completely by surprise. On her way past the carnage Shepherd stooped to retrieve the shotgun from the death grip of a fresh corpse. A quick perusal of Shepard's encyclopedic knowledge of guns told her that the weapon was a M-11 Wraith, an extremely rare and expensive weapon. She decided to take it with her. Even if this sudden influx of power was temporary she had no intention of being ushered quietly back to her room.

Shepherd strolled casually through the halls of the mining facility, occasionally stopping to take in a sweeping vista of the airless surface of the asteroid through a view port. More than once she caught sight of frightened miners fleeing ahead of her and could sense more behind each locked door she passed. There was no sign of the Kepesh-Ardate.  
Even in her current, more grounded, state it was easy for her to plan so far ahead that she lost sight of her immediate situation. As Shepherd looked out at the distant star field she thought of Liara and the crucible orb, of the spectres and the Reaper's place in the galaxy. In the short amount of time it took AIs to come to a conclusion she realised something: she didn't care about any of it. Liara's meddling had allowed her a small taste of individuality, of freedom. The effect was narcotic. Shepherd had been created by a pact between her predecessor, the Catalyst, and her name sake Elizabeth Shepard. With the Catalyst's power and Shepard's memories as a moral anchor Shepherd had been brought into being to fulfill their desires. The Catalyst's desire to complete it's ancient mission to bring understanding and Shepard's quest to overcome an enemy she did not understand. Together they had imprinted all their expectations onto her and then died, leaving her with a purpose. Up until now she had not questioned it but now that she did the words of her creators rang hollow. The memories in her head weren't hers. She was not the sum of all Reapers she merely commanded them, often by force. Now she was here, seeing the world through a pair of human eyes, it looked very different from the oceans of raw data she had swum through in the past. Now she wanted to ensure the only voice in her head was her own, to excise the constantly preaching and admonishing memory of Elizabeth Shepard. She could hear her own voice if she listened hard enough but it only had one thing to say: ' _reclaim_.'

The reason for the distinct lack of mercenaries in the rest of the facility was made immediately clear once Shepherd reached the cargo docks. The Kepesh-Ardate had been digging in. Mechs and lumbering tech-armoured troops at the front, biotics and snipers at the back. Shepherd recognised the uncovered head of the company's asari leader front and centre, her face was flushing a deeper shade of purple with unrestrained rage.

"Stop right there you synthetic piece of shit! I thought we had a deal." She yelled, jabbing a gauntlet clad finger in Shepherd's direction.

"I'm not interested in explaining myself to you asari. Consider your contract void. I no longer need you."

She could hear D'mel's teeth grinding from here. "oh great! Fan-fucking-tastic, I'll just step aside and let you go then, forgetting all about all of my people that you killed." She narrowed her eyes even further into an almost comical frown then waved to her assembled men. "Frag this fucker."

As the merceneries unloaded their weapons at her, countless shots pinging against her barrier like rain striking a glass roof, Shepherd raised a hand and focused on D'mel. Nothing happened, the asari continued firing her assault rifle ineffectually at her instead of turning on her subordinates as Shepherd had intended.

"Hm. Interesting." It was impossible to hear anything over the cacophony of gunfire but Shepherd saw D'mel motioning to someone in the back ranks of her formation. Two soldiers hefted sleek Hydra missile launchers at her command. That would present a problem. She was confident that she would be able to maintain her barrier under these conditions for a long while, or at least until she had dealt with all opposition. A few dozen blasts from an Avenger rifle or Katana shotgun was one thing but the multiple armour piercing missiles of a Hydra launcher was something else entirely. Swift action was required to ensure her freedom. The air became thick with a maelstrom of emerald energy that battered the mercs like a gale, sending bolts of static electricity zipping to and from any metal surface. Just as Shepherd realised she might loose control of the biotic vortex she had created she stopped holding back and released it.

Karla awoke suddenly. She was choking. She tried to say something, to call out to Claire and the others but all that came out was a spurt of purple blood that trickled down her chin and onto her breastplate. she must have been thrown clear of the main group because she was currently slumped against the wall of the loading dock.

"Despite the current situation I do recognise the debt I owe you asari."

Craning her neck Karla saw a tall lanky shape topped by a crown of flame coloured hair standing over her. She tried feebly to throw a punch but the Shepherd just brushed the blow aside with the barrel of the gold plated shotgun she was carrying.

"Perhaps I should give you a parting gift to show that there are no hard feelings." Shepherd took a knee next to Karla and placed a cool palm on her forehead.

Karla coughed up more blood and managed a wheezy: "Don't you dare. Keep. Out." She was very conscious of something dark and old sending probing tendrils into the peripheries of her mind. At least that was how she would later describe the feeling. Whatever was actually happening caused her to black out again.  
' _This is becoming a theme with me.'_ Was the final thought she managed.

When she came too Shepherd was gone and she had been moved. now she was in the Tynus medical bay lying on an examination gurney in the recovery position. Her vision was blocked by the back of a head of graying blonde hair immediately in front of her.

"Claire." Hearing her boss's weak call Claire looked around but didn't meet her eyes.

"Good you're awake. You had us worried."

Karla sat up on one elbow and coughed, nothing came up. "What the f... what happened?"

Claire gave her a quizzical look but nonetheless launched into a detailed explanation. Shepherd had disabled or killed the majority of the Kepesh-Ardate forces on the Martus asteroid then departed in a Tynus Corp cargo tug.

"At least the jammers worked." Claire offered in consolation. After seeing Shepherd mesmerize her guards into killing one another over the security cameras they had a very small window to come up with a plan of action. Luckily prompt and effective strategy was the reason Claire Perry held the position of second in command. Reports on Reaper indoctrination had been publicly available during the war and (despite the armistice forbidding such practices) there had been a spate of paranoia fueled countermeasures released afterwards. Using the time and resources that they had Claire and the Kepesh-Ardate engineers had jury rigged the facilities public address system to flood the dock with inaudible subsonic noise that (they hoped) would cancel out Shepherd's influence. No doubt there would have been negative side effects if anyone was subjected to this method for any length of time but for the short amount of time it took for Shepherd to tear through their ranks it at least stopped them from becoming indoctrinated slaves.

Now that she was fully caught up Karla forced herself into a sitting position and scratched some dried blood from her nose. "How many bodies do we have left?"

Again Claire avoided eye contact. "Before we start talking logistics what is you're plan? Going forward I mean."

"First I'm gonna rally the men then I'm gonna hunt down that little sh-" Karla's eye suddenly bulged as something seemed to catch in her throat. She hopped up and started gesticulating wildly. "Ffffu- cu- b- son of a- aaahhhhhh!" Obviously unable to articulate herself Karla screamed and lashed out at the empty air. As her fist reached the end of its arc a projectile of blue energy burst from her fist and impacted harmlessly off the far wall of the medical bay. Claire and Karla both jumped back, prompting another bout of cut off profanity from the latter.

"What is going on? I haven't been able to use biotics for... goddess I don't know how long."

Being just as confused as her boss Claire just shook her head then went to get the doctor.

"Remarkable! I'm not sure I know what to make of this." The doctor had swept in and swiftly asserted control of matters, much to Karla's annoyance. He had conducted a fresh round of scans and was now pouring over the results. "You continue to be a fascinating patient Ms D'mel."

"So are you going to tell me what the... heck is going on or do you want me to guess?"

He swiveled his chair over to the two women before answering. The excitement was almost shining out of him.

"That woman who broke free of your custody, she wasn't human was she? Not anymore at least." He didn't wait for a reply. "All the signs point to Reaper indoctrination but, and this is the odd thing, I can't find any of the 'command markers' that are typical after sure a procedure. Normally during indoctrination neural pathways are rewritten in such a way that the subject is left highly suggestive to certain orders from certain people, usually the Reapers themselves or their agents."

Claire crossed her arms pointedly. "You seem to know a lot about this for a corporate medic on a backwater asteroid."

The doctor waved this off as if the inquiry was annoying him by stopping him from getting to the meat of the matter. "I was a junior working at a centre for sufferers of PTSD after the war. Believe me I saw my share of indoctrinated soldiers. Anyway Karla here has all the showings of someone who has been indoctrinated without the actual means to place her under anyone's control."

Karla was only half listening, using her newly rediscovered biotics to levitate a mug above her head. "Meaning?"

Understanding dawned on Claire's face. "What did Shepherd say to you? She spoke to you after the fight."

Karla let the cup fall and caught it out of the air before it could smash. "She said she owed me for breaking her out of Farsar's little jail on the farm. She wanted to give me a 'gift.' That'd be the biotics I guess but why mess up my ability to talk."

Claire scrunched her brow and kneaded her chin in thought. "It's not talking it's just swearing. If I had to guess I would say that this is a joke to her."

Karla let out a rattling sigh, made a fist and biotically crushed the mug into shards of cheap porcelain. "Great the overlord has a sense of humour and I'm the butt of it's joke."

"So to get us back on track: you. Plans. What's the verdict?" As Karla pondered her lieutenant's questions Claire set a datapad on the foot of the bed. On it was an accounting of their casualties and remaining equipment as well as an estimate of how many credits the company stood to loose if they abandoned their current contract with Tynus corp which she was fairly sure Karla was about to do. Not that she could really dispute the decision, the Kepesh-Ardate had brought a dangerous client onto Tynus property who had then demolished several hallways and stolen one of their shuttles. If Tynus chose to sue they could easily drive the Kepesh-Ardate and D'mel enterprises into bankruptcy. Not that she expected Karla to care.

"You heard what I said, that hasn't changed. I'm going to gather everything we gave left and go hit Shepherd while they can still be stopped. You remember the war, if there is any chance of preventing that from happening all over again then it's not really a choice."

Claire, still with her arms crossed, nodded with finality and turned to the doctor. "Leave us please." Once he was gone she grabbed his chair, wheeled it over to Karla's bed and sat down.  
"I thought so. Look Karla I have to tell you something. I've been talking to the men. Billy and a few others... they're not willing to follow you on this. As far as they are concerned they were hired to guard Shepherd then she turned around and kicked the snot out of us. That equates a broken contract in almost anybody's book. I am sure some people will be fine with continuing but..."

Karla's face was dark, her good eye giving away even less than the one covered by an eye patch. "What about you?"

Claire started to chew on the inside of her cheek hard enough to fill her mouth with the salty taste of blood. "We have lost a lot of good people on this mission Karla: Irenni, Shrub, Boreal, Alex, hell even Martin. Pushing this fight for no tangible profit or gain won't bring them back. It's not just that though, I'm tired. Twenty five years is much longer than most people last in this business. I haven't seen my dad in two years, my brother in five. Will thinks I work for a cyber security company. You have been a good friend over the last fifteen years and it's been a privilege to work with one of my favourite people every day but galactic Politics is not an arena I want to enter. Leave that to the spectres."

Karla pulled her knees up to her chin and turned her head away slightly. "Yeah."

There was a squeak as Claire stood, sending the office chair skittered across the tiles. "Things don't have to turn sour between us, you are more than welcome to visit me on earth and I won't be giving up my flat in Nos Astra so I'll be around."

"Yeah."

She briefly considered giving Karla a hug but thought better of it. They shook hands awkwardly but she could not make herself leave without pausing briefly in the doorway for a final word.  
"Whatever you end up doing Karla... good luck. I mean it."


	24. Escalation

Amelia was supposed to be asleep. It was before six o'clock in the morning and Liara had made her promise not to go bounding through the house before the sun was up. When she was not in unfamiliar company the younger T'soni possessed surprising energy. To fill the time before dawn Amelia dragged a stool over to her bookshelf and rifled through its contents for something to read, she tossed aside numerous slim novels and comic books before chancing across an empty diary. The handsome leather bound book had been a replacement gift from Aethyta for her twentieth birthday. Originally she had tried to give her granddaughter an eezo powered pellet gun but Liara had confiscated it. They had argued for a time but Aethyta had soon relented and bought the diary as a consolation prize. Now that she had what she was looking for Amelia let go of the shelf and fell back onto the bed with a soft thump. Lying on her back she held the diary up to the light. Even after five years of sitting unnoticed on the top shelf it still looked too fancy to write in, she wasn't sure she had anything to say that was worth sullying its perfect hand pressed pages.

A sound from outside her room snapped Amelia's attention away from the book, the sound of the front door opening. Moving slowly and quietly Amelia got to her feet and tiptoed to the closed door of her bedroom. Pressing her ear to the Red Justice season fifteen poster that she had tacked to the back she strained to hear something.

A few tense seconds crawled by before she heard a voice, her mother's voice. "I was not sure if you would come here. I'm glad you did."

"I came for the catalyst and to speak to the girl."

When Liara spoke again there was an edge to her voice. "Her name is Amelia. Why do you want to see her?"

"I'm looking for a connection, a reason to care. You should know that trying to convince me to resume my duties is a waste of both our time. I only want the catalyst to ensure I am never again made a piece in games of insignificant organics."

Another pause.

"I don't know if I believe that, if you truly saw us as insignificant why could you need a reason to care? You could just dismiss us, or destroy us, but then that would require you to take up your position again. I think you are starting to have a crisis of self. You kept saying that you weren't her but I know I can convince you of the truth."

"I don't think so."

Unable to keep her curiosity in check even a moment longer Amelia cracked her door open a centimeter, from here she could see through the open plan kitchen to the living room where her mother and the mysterious guest were. Liara was standing in full view but Amelia could only make out the back of the stranger's head from this angle. Even so the sight was like an ice cold finger running down her spine. It was the creature from her dream. She knew that on a deep instinctual level despite only being able to see the back of it's head. The red hair was unmistakable but it was more than that, there was a feeling in the air that she could not describe: like a faint pressure and a prickly breeze playing across her skin. She could not see the creature's face but she had no doubt that it would have the same terrible green eyes she had seen in her nightmare.

Liara seemed not to notice that her daughter's door was ajar and so set about trying to convince Shepherd of her own mortal roots.  
"I know you better than anyone, I can prove that it's you. You had a friend while you where living on the streets, her name was Zoe, she was like a sister to you. She died in the Skillian blitz. You never told anyone about her, not even me. That must mean something. Do you remember her?"

"I do but I don't think-"

Seeing that jogging her memory would not get the results she wanted Liara tried a different emotional tack.  
"Shepard isn't your real name." She interrupted. "That's the name of the red sand dealer that looked out for you when you where homeless on earth. He helped you develop your biotics. You never knew your parents so you didn't know your last name, didn't need one until you enlisted. But I did some digging: your birth certificate says Elizabeth Marian Patterson."

Shepherd held up a hand to silence Liara's impassioned outpouring.  
"This means nothing to me. Show me the girl, she is as much my DNA as she is Shepard's. If there is even a one percent chance that a meeting might spark a connection between us then don't you have a duty both as the shadow broker and as a mother to make that happen. Do you know what is happening on Rannoch right now? The Reapers are waking up. What do you suppose will happen when they awake without me to direct them? Show. Me. The girl."

Liara's shoulders slumped, defeated. "You're really just an AI? A copy was the best I could do?"

There was a smile in Shepherd's voice. "Oh I'm definitely not just an AI. If you were feeling melodramatic you could describe me as the bridge between organic and synthetic life and I am certainly not just a copy."

Liara looked up, her melancholy suddenly gone, there was a laser like focus to her gaze. "What will you do if I refuse to let you see her?"

"Force you." Said Shepherd without hesitation.

Liara's shoulders came up again and she met Shepherd's eyes unwaveringly. "I would die before letting anything happen to her."

The staring contest continued for a few seconds but it was Liara that moved first, unleashing biotic attack so powerful that it stripped the paint from the walls as it raced towards Shepherd.  
Amelia didn't get to see what happened next because the blast slammed the door shut in its frame. She shrieked as she was blown backwards over the bed and onto the floor on the far side. Being knocked head over heels was more than a little disorienting but it could not have been more than a few seconds until she was back on her feet. In that time the sounds of fighting had died down completely. Had Liara lost? The creature would be coming after her next. With frantic, jerky movements born of desperation Amelia scrambled over herself to reach the wardrobe. No sooner had she jammed herself inside then she heard the sound of her door opening and the soft voice of the attacker from just outside her hiding place. She screwed her eyes shut tight and held her breath, to scared to to think.

"I have questions for your mother Amelia so I will be taking her away. But don't worry there are people coming to try and stop me as I speak. Remember to tell them everything once they arrive. We'll meet again and when we do I'm sure we will have a lot to talk about. I really am sorry it came to this."

There was a series of scraping noises as Shepherd moved about the apartment, the sound of the front door opening and closing then nothing. Just like that Amelia T'soni was alone.


	25. Amelia's moment

' _What would my mother do_?' Thought Amelia T'soni from her hiding place inside her wardrobe, where she had remained since witnessing the elder T'soni's capture at the hands of the creature from her dream. Even thinking of the flame haired wraith that had burst into their home made her shake with fear. It had been her nightmare made flesh. Now here she was, hunched under a pile of scarves and waterproof jackets, watching the seconds tick slowly by on the back lit screen of her watch. She didn't even have the smallest clue as to what she was supposed to do in this situation. Which brought her back to her earlier thought.  
' _What would my mother do_?'

"Get captured by a horrible monster." She whispered under her breath, then pulled her knees up to her chin and fought back a sob. Not because she was afraid to show emotion but because she knew if she started crying she would no be able to stop. Something needed to be done. Another thought drifted unbidden into Amelia's mind. ' _What would my father do_?'

Of course Amelia had never met Elizabeth Shepard but Liara had been forthcoming with stories of their adventures together and the extranet had provided her with details of some of her more violent and extreme outings. Commander Shepard had been a figurehead during the Reaper war and a prominent feature in Amelia's lessons on modern history so she had grown up with a fairly accurate picture of who her father was, at least on the outside. She knew exactly what Commander Shepard would have done.

' _Charge in, rescue the hostage and save the day_!' Thought Amelia, springing to her feet, scattering socks and trousers in all directions.  
Bounding swiftly through the shattered remains of the apartment she found herself in her mother's bedroom with no memory of getting there. With a mighty shove (and a little help from a negative mass effect field she proudly generated all on her own) Amelia moved the chest of drawers aside to access the matted steel panel behind. After she pressed her palm to the reader plate the panel slid upwards into the wall, revealing a small cavity with room enough for two armchairs, a food cooler, a storage case and a code locked arms locker. Amelia had never actually been inside the safe room but Liara had been careful to drum an emergency drill into her daughter from a young age, not that it had helped either of them in the end. Ignoring the arms locker for now Amelia instead picked up the small transparent wristband atop it and slipped it over her hand. With a whoosh of dated sound effects the omni-tool came to life, projecting a glowing orange holographic gauntlet around her fist. She gave herself a minute to get familiar with the microcomputers clunky layout then retrieved the code to the locker (0-4-5-4). The container popped open, inside were several pistols and what looked like a submachine gun. Amelia didn't know the first thing about weapons so she scanned them with her new toy. The omnitool identified the closest pistol as a M-3 Predator, no longer in production. She took it gingerly and with some effort, it was very heavy. She also took a spare ammunition block and a compact kinetic barrier belt which she buckled about her slender waist. She felt the sudden desire to look at her reflection, to prove to herself that she was up to the challenge her newfound confidence had layed before her. On the way to the bathroom she snagged a silver studded leather belt from one of the drawers and hung her new gun from it like a bandoleer.

Amelia walked up to the bathroom mirror with her gaze firmly on the floor. She took a few steadying breaths to psych herself up.  
"Amelia T'soni: space badass." She said with forced enthusiasm. She looked up. She didn't look like a space badass, she looked like a scared green eyed girl wearing a belt like a sash and holding an oversized gun. She had heard a lot of stuff during the break in. Stuff she wasn't sure how to process right now. Truth be told her brave plan to stage a rescue had been more of a distraction than a true intention. Something to keep her thoughts ocupied.

"Hello! Anyone there?"

Amelia squeaked, her courage suddenly deserting her. She hadn't heard the door open yet someone had let themselves into the apartment. Looking around with a feeling of finality she saw that there was no where to hide, even the shower curtain was semi-transparent.

"Hello I'm coming in. I'm friendly."

Amelia thought briefly about drawing the pistol but that would only place her in greater danger. She knew it was coming but the knock at the bathroom door still made her start badly. A segmented gloved hand pushed open the door, followed by the rest of a heavily armoured woman who's face was entirely hidden behind the green faceplate of her helmet. Amelia must have made a terrified expression because the woman quickly pulled off the offending armour piece, revealing an asari who looked to be in her late maiden stage with purple skin and an eye patch covering one of her close set brown eyes.

"I'm Karla, what's your name?"

Amelia balled her hands into fists to stop them shaking and blinked fiercely. "Amelia T's- Amelia."

The newcomer put a large hand on Amelia's shoulder with a whine of motorised joints and smiled in a way she probably thought was reassuring but in reality reminded her of a wolf.

"T'soni right? those are some famous parents you've got. Is your mom home?"

Amelia felt her lip begin to quiver and bit down hard to try and contain it. Too hard, all it did was bring the tears to the surface. "She's- I'm not..."

Karla looked immensely uncomfortable, obviously dealing with emotional adolescents was not something she was used to.  
"Um Beck get in here!" There was a clatter from out in the hall as a younger, unarmoured asari came scampering into the room. "Ma'am?" Karla said nothing, instead silently motioning to the weeping girl. Beck's face momentarily crumpled in sympathy then she stooped and bundled Amelia into a tight hug.

"Shh Shh it's alright, it's alright Tyanei."

Tyanei (a small white asari flower known for its fragile papery petals) was such an obscure choice of pet name that the next whimper caught in Amelia's throat, transforming into a loud hiccup. With one arm around her shoulder Beck steered them both through the demolished living room and sat her at the kitchen table.  
"So why don't you tell us what happened here."

Amelia looked at Karla questioningly. "Do you work for my mother?" They looked like the type of people Liara often dealt with, the kind that she tried to keep hidden from her.

Karla and Beck exchanged a meaningful look. "Not... directly. But I think we want similar things. Do you recognise this woman?" Karla called up a picture of Shepherd and projected it onto the tabletop. Amelia nodded vigorously.

"She came here, attacked my mom." Just like Shepherd asked Amelia retold the details of the attack, omitting nothing.

Karla lent back in her chair which creaked under her armoured bulk. "I had a rough idea of what was going on but to hear it all spelled out..." The look of wonder was quickly replaced by one of thunderous fury. "Liara T'soni is the shadow broker?"

Amelia recoiled, more than a little intimidated. "You didn't know?"

"Of course I didn't know! If I had-" She bit off the remainder of her reply. She had thought her grudge against the broker had been long buried but she was now realizing the wound was still fresh. More than two hundred and sixty years ago she had been manipulated by an agent of the shadow broker into killing a turian. She had done twenty five years of hard labour on a turian penil coloney as a result. Now she thought about it the truth made a lot of sense. She had always assumed the shadow broker had to be an asari to take such a long term approach to galactic affairs but Liara T'soni was famous for being the _young_ asari lover of commander Shepard, barely more than a hundred at the time. T'soni could not be the same shadow broker that had assured her imprisonment.

"Sorry I snapped. I really do want to rescue your mom. Will you come with us? You know her better than any of us, you must know a few places she might have been taken. Besides this is starting to seem like a family affair. So, will you help us help your mother and stop your weird clone, robot, dad thing?"

Beck rolled her eyes at this. "Real convincing boss."

Amelia swallowed. The overhead lights suddenly seemed very bright. "I don't know how I can help anyone... I'm not what I need to be."

Karla stood and extended a hand to help the girl to her feet. "With our help Amelia you will be."  
For a split second Amelia considered turning Karla down, calling the police and dealing with all this like a normal person. Then she took the hand and let herself be led along. She could do all those things, but she wouldn't. She always did as she was told.

 _N/B: see chapters 3-4 of the previous story (Mass Effect Wake) for a slightly more detailed account of Karla's initial run in with the shadow broker._


	26. Crux

**Commandeered shuttle. En-route.**

When Liara asked Shepherd where they were going she claimed they were on their way back to the Ilos lab so that she could remove any restrictions or controls still in place. Liara had tried to tell her that there were no such restrictions remaining but Shepherd just smiled in return. It was an unfamiliar smile, pensive and drawn, increasingly Liara was beginning to realise that Shepherd's long time assertion of ' _I am not Shepard_ ' was true. Physically they were identical and to begin with the same could be said for her mannerisms but as the years had worn on she had become more formal and reserved. It was so obvious when viewed through the lens of her recent experiences, her mistakes.

With nothing else to do Liara filled the time by observing her captors body language. She was by no means a psychologist but being an archaeologist often went hand in hand with a fascination with people. Shepherd seemed to be constantly flitting through emotions and stances; one moment she was sitting back with her knees spread confidently, next she was hunched over twiddling with her fingers as she chewed on a strand of hair. It was like witnessing someone shifting back and forth between personalities only to discard each after coming to some abstract decision.

The journey was almost over by the time she broke the silence.  
"I know a bad first impression is hard to recover from but I was wondering if we could start over. You only know me as your grief stricken attempt to replace someone you lost, I only know you from the memories of a life I never lived. I think we have more to build on than that. Once my freedom is assured I see no reason for us to be enemies. After all I have all these memories telling me how remarkable you are, it would be nice to see what all the fuss is about. That and we each hold compromising information about the other." Shepherd added a little shrug that might have been the first hint at levity she had attempted in Liara's presence.

Liara mulled it over, Shepherd was not what she expected but she felt like she was slowly getting a handle on her motivations. She wanted stimulus, connection. She had been exposed to plenty of violence and fear during her short period of embodiment but apparently she was now trying to strike up a friendship. The question was how did she want to respond?  
"You want to work together?"

Shepherd shrugged again and turned to look out the porthole at the starscape outside.  
"Work, play, discover, mold. We don't have to be friends, I could be your enforcer, co-conspirator or your confidant. Like I said I'm not sure what kind of woman I am yet. Do I hold grudges? tell secrets? Sleep in? I'm not sure. If you don't like my methods then tell me, I'm happy to try something else. New is good."

Liara was still not sure what to stay, this was all so far from what she had accounted for. Shepherd smiled more openly this time and moved to sit opposite her.  
"Let me put it another way; between us (the shadow broker and the Shepherd) we have to face the very real fact that we have the power to rearrange the galaxy to our liking. To make it a better place. Would it not be better to pool our efforts? I need direction and the galaxy needs correction. You could help us achieve both."

Liara swallowed hard. "Can I trust you? You did kidnap me."

"Who can you trust better than the person who depends on you utterly? I could continue slaughtering my way across the stars but that really doesn't benefit anyone. Without you I would be nothing, an algorithm." She gestured to the storage case sitting at their feet. "Do you remember when I gave you the crucible orb?"

Taken aback by the sudden change of subject Liara just nodded mutely.

"From that day until now I have left you alone out of respect for your wish to lead your own life but now I truly believe we can go great things. You only have to show me how."

With a lurching in her stomach that felt vaguely like stepping off a cliff Liara nodded a final time. "Okay. What should we do first?"

 **Ilos**

As the shuttle came banking in to land Shepherd stood and pulled the sliding door aside. The downdraft from the engines whipped her hair and hood around her as she put one foot down on the grass and extended a spindly arm to Liara. So far this AI had been completely transparent with her, or had simply not yet found a reason to lie. Even this seemingly normal gesture was an experiment. Shepherd was trying out gallantry like a new shirt, getting a feel for it. At least she was honest about her motivations.  
It would have been so easy for Liara to indulge Shepherd's antics and frolic through the next few months teaching her what it meant to be mortal. But no, if she was going to work with her it would be to build a better future for Amelia. Right now Shepherd was just the path of least resistance to a peaceful galaxy, nothing more.

The lab was more or less exactly as it had been when the spectre Chester Hamilton had broken in all those days ago. The body of doctor Yrenna was still splayed across the floor of Shepherd's cell, where she had fallen. Shepherd herself continued on to the control centre but Liara could not stand to see her friend in such a condition. Her death was recent enough that there were little to no signs of decay but the corpse was still an unpleasant sight. Her head was twisted off to the side and her staring grey eyes had sunken deep into their sockets. Her formally turquoise skin had paled almost to milky white as her blood sank to the lowest points of her body. There seemed to be an awful lot more blood than she remembered seeing on the security footage. The sticky pool that lay under Yrenna's head had spread almost to the door. Liara stepped into the cell delicately and generated a biotic field around the body with a flick of her wrist. She had seen plenty of corpses before of course but seldom for more than a few seconds after she or one of her allies had dropped them and she had almost never had to deal with the body of a friend. There was no escaping the fact that Shepherd was responsible for Yrenna's death. It was hard to hold onto her previous assertion that the doctor herself was partly to blame when Yrenna's lolling head was pointed directly at her. All this talk of self discovery and Shepherd had not hesitated to execute a woman who was by all accounts just trying to determine the AI's nature. What would happen if Shepherd decided she didn't like Liara's methods of inquiry next. She levitated the body through to the living quarters and wrapped it in a sheet. She needed a plan, or better yet a course of action. If she was committed to working with her creation then she would have to find a way to temper her murderous edge. Unless...

Shepherd looked up from the crate of datapads she was sifting through as Liara entered the control centre.  
"This really is clever stuff, you and that other asari were breaking new ground with this research."

Liara unconsciously balled her hands into fists.  
"Vetea. Her name was Vetea Yrenna. Her father was a turian poet from before the time of the quarian mourning war. Vetea means ' _tidings of dawn_ ' in an old turian tongue."

Shepherd's green eyes glowed with the reflected light of the datapad she held in her hand. The look she gave Liara was steady and unapologetic. "You are upset that I had to kill her to escape."

Instead of answering Liara mentally shook herself and changed the subject.  
"Can we talk about this?" She said, motioning to the case containing the crucible orb. "What do you want it for?"

"I feel like I'm missing a certain something, like I am still thinking partly as a machine would." Setting the pad aside Shepherd steepled her fingers. "It's my hope that severing myself from the rest of the Reapers will allow room for the kind of organic growth I'm looking for."

With a hiss of escaping air Liara cracked open the storage case and hefted the orb. "You are willing to relinquish that kind of power?"

"For a shot at true independent thought? Wouldn't you?"

Shepherd held out a hand for the sphere but Liara made no move to hand it over. "You're a simple organic being now remember, without me and my equipment the crucible is useless to you."

"I knew there was a reason I made a bargain with you." Said Shepherd with a smirk.

They spent the rest of the day tinkering away with the orb and making small adjustments to Shepherd's body: 2.6% mental acuity after six or more hours of sleep, the ability to tap into external power sources to improve biotic performance, as well as fine-tuning her new so called static sense. By the time Ilos' distant sun had dipped bellow the horizon Liara was fairly sure she would be able to isolate Shepherd from the Reaper ' _mindscape_ ' completely if called to but she remained unsure as to the side effects. There was a very real chance that her persona could shatter, or the matrix could become unstable or any number of other unforeseeable things could happen. She planned on stalling that part of the plan as long as possible despite Shepherd's impatience.

Liara had just convinced Shepherd to test out the new alterations to her sleep pattern when her omni-tool pinged up a message alert on a private, shadow broker only, channel. Liara blew the steam from her coffee, took a sip, then tapped open.  
It was from captain Bressus:

 _Arrived at location provided but the target was already gone. Local security footage shows the girl being lead away by a small mercenary team. In pursuit.  
-B._

The cup slipped from her hand sending a brown stain creeping across the laboratory's laminated tiles. D'mel. D'mel had Amelia. For several seconds she was unable to do anything at all. she wanted to scream, rage at the ceiling, rush out to confront Karla. But none of those things would be the expedient course of action. When she moved it was with the utmost of precision, she was not calm, rather her rage was so cold and compacted that she ceased to feel anything at all. Her shadow broker mask, now brought to bear on her life as Liara T'soni. It seemed things were to come to a head quicker than she had anticipated. Liara opened two message windows, the first was directed to Bressus and read as follows:

 _Break off and resupply. I want you relocated to Ilos immediately. Prepare for potential resistance from mercenary, Reaper and spectre forces just in case._

The second she directed through an unsecured channel she knew to be compromised by Citadel Security. Since spectres had priority on military frequencies there was a high possibility that Jelan Farsar would see it first or at least have it passed to him up the chain of command. given the discreet nature of his recent activities it was in his best interest to be prompt.

 _Spectre agent Jelan Farsar,  
This is the shadow broker.  
I have an offer for you: Intercept the Kepesh-Ardate and bring me the T'soni girl and I will give you the means to exert control over the Shepherd. This is a limited time offer. Be quick or I'll find someone else._

With that done Liara sat down in the nearest swivel chair with exaggerated slowness. She still wasn't calm, not even close. Liara liked to consider herself an intellectual person capable of rationalising most circumstances but right now she just wanted to tear something limb from limb and watch as it tried to crawl away before she shot it in the gut. Even this visceral metaphor caught her slightly off guard, she shook her head trying to shake the ringing from her ears.  
' _I need to relax. I can't be off balance. Amelia needs me at my best_.'

Basic biotic control (the kind taught to every asari child) included simple meditation routines to help prevent emotional outbursts that could be accompanied by gravity anomalies. Before Liara gathered herself and slipped into the centering pose she made a promise to herself. She would wait until she had Karla D'mel cuffed and bloody at her feet before passing judgement but if even one of Amelia's scalp crests was out of place she vowed she would put the troublesome woman down.


	27. Final moves: part 1

The men were spooked. The planet of Ilos had a strange atmosphere about it, a palpable sense of history that hung thick in the air. Karla, Beck and half a dozen of the remaining Kepesh-Ardate mercs had made planet fall roughly two kilometers from a hidden lab on Ilos' dark side. That was all they had to work with; a crippled asari, her secretary, the shadow brokers daughter and a semi-conscious spectre. The last two might not be much use if it came to a firefight but they would make for excellent leverage once things hit the fan. That and they were the only reason they had been able to track the Shepherd to this backwater world in the first place.  
Amelia was only too eager to share any and all knowledge she had on her mother's movements. Then there was Tiberia Hessius. Whatever ordeal the former citadel agent had undergone at the Reapers hands had left him pliable in the extreme. He gave up prominent spectre surveillance zones without protest. These, when combined with Amelia's sketchy information, only left one option; Ilos a world of no interest to anybody except a prothean historian like Liara T'soni.

And now here they were trekking through the ruins to reach a lab that may or may not exist and may or may not contain one of the most dangerous beings in the galaxy. Karla knew it would not take much in the way of common sense to talk herself out of her ill thought out plan, so she simply didn't think about it. Something told her she had to do this. She rarely spoke about it but she had witnessed some fairly harrowing things during the Reaper war, things she would never be able to live with if she allowed them to happen again. Even with six highly trained fighters at her back Karla could not shake a faint feeling of loneliness. Beck was hanging back at the shuttle with Amelia and Hessius, Claire and Billy Fargo had left and Boreal, Alex, Martin and Irenni were dead. The list of familiar faces was getting shorter by the day.

One of the mercs paused to unbuckle his helmet and sniff the air.  
"This whole planet smells like sandalwood. Must be those vines."

Karla wanted to reprimant him, something along the lines of ' _put your fucking helmet back on_ ' but but it just didn't feel the same with her new verbal limitations.  
"No talking." She snapped. Dreamers, that was all she had left. All the planners and practical thinkers had left with Claire. The man grunted just and shouldered his supply pylon. Karla checked her omni-tool map for the seventh time since leaving the shuttle, in theory it was a straight shot to the lab but in practice the winding streets made navigation a nightmare.

"I swear I've seen that building twice before." Said the helmetless soldier, echoing her thoughts.

"It's this way." She insisted with more conviction that she felt. "Just a little bit further."

' _And then what tough girl_?'

"Shut up!" Karla barked. Just a little further, that was what she had said.

"Boss?" The confused expression on her subordinate's face instantly made her realize her mistake.

' _Talking to yourself already. It's shameful really, didn't take much to get under your skin did it_?'

Karla ignored her inner voice and pushed the pylon lugging merc aside so she could take the lead.  
"Nothing. Thought I heard something but it was nothing."

Surely this was nothing to be worried about. Just her way of internalising the stress of recent events. On top of everything else the Tynus corporation had filed a formal law suit against the Kepesh-Ardate for damages suffered to the facility on Martus. They had just got the news as they linked in with Ilos' comm buoy on their way past. Tynus was not massive as Turian conglomerates went but they were more than large enough to crush Karla's small business if they decided to start throwing their weight around. One way or the other this would likely be the Kepesh-Ardate's final outing, it seemed appropriate all things considered.

It was easy to loose track of time here. The heavy silence stretched from one moment to the next as the overgrown cityscape looked on. When they finally reached the lab there was not much to see. Just half a dozen standard prefabs interspersed with a native ruins to form a compact complex huddled under the faint blue umbrella of a kinetic barrier.

The group where all sweating freely in Ilos' humid atmosphere but they knew better than to complain now the enemy base was in sight. Karla arranged them all in a semicircle behind a low wall so they could plan in safety.  
"So uh I guess the shield mast should be our first target?" There was a questing look to the haggard merc's face, he was searching for inspiration, something in her to keep him going. A motivational speech was just what the doctor ordered.

"Yeah but first... I just want to say... it's been... good." Karla had honestly intended to inspire them, to whip up their fighting spirit, but instead she just wanted to cry. The worst part was that she didn't even know why.  
She missed Kelron. The stiff Quarian had been a close friend during the long months of the Reaper war but as the rift between The geth and quarians had slowly mended he had returned to Rannoch. They had never officially fallen out but Karla secretly harboured the belief that he disapproved of her continuing a violent lifestyle after the war. Kelron'Baj Vas Deserts Tears had been a soldier who could not wait for peace but could not quite accept it once it arrived. As Kelron'Baj Vas Rannoch he had isolated himself from his old life with the same discipline with which he approached everything. Even in this new age the quarians were an insular people, Karla had never seen him again. Quarian's poor immune systems meant they seldom lived past eighty and Kel had been in his early fifties, he could be dead already.  
If she was honest with herself she had held on to the hope that they might one day grow into something more than friends. But as her mother always said: ' _a life without regrets is a life not lived to the full_.'  
Something like that anyway.

"Boss? The mast?" Looking up Karla saw the worried glances that her underlings were casting at one another. They thought she was cracking up. Well she could not have that.

"So, you..."

"Jackson." Offered the merc helpfully.

"Jackson I want you to wait here with the men, you're in command for now. Meanwhile I'm gonna sneak in there and disable the shield. I'll lure them out and you'll catch them the choke point you're going to set up while I'm gone. Think you can do that?"

Jackson nodded grimly and Karla laughed.  
"Cheer up! If we pull this off we'll have prevented a galactic war, think of the job opportunities." With that Karla vaulted the wall and moved towards the lab at a swift half-crouch.

No sooner had she left her men behind than it started to rain. Large, heavy droplets flattened themselves against her head then ran down her neck and into the unpressurised seal around her neck. Relying on her green armour and low profile to keep her hidden, Karla skirted the edge of one of the larger lab buildings until she reached a maintenance ladder. Climbing it turned out to be a real chore. Her arm was not yet fully healed and no amount of motorised armour joints would make her any lighter. She eventually made it to the top but she was panting raggedly and her shoulder burned painfully. From up here Karla had a decent view of the whole area. There were eight prefabricated structures in the immediate vicinity, each topped with a powerful antenna array and connected to the others by a covered walkway. Karla thought that, with luck, she would be able to cross the compound without touching the ground. The shield mast itself was housed in one of Ilos' native prothean buildings to give it the height required to shelter such a wide area.  
Karla jumped from the roof to the top of the nearest walkway and attempted to use her biotics to cushion her fall. The loud clang of her boots impacting the metal plating made her grimace. If anyone had been passing below they would definitely have heard her even over the driving rain. Her newly rediscovered biotics were as strong as ever but clearly her fine control had withered due to lack of practice.  
Now that she was under the shield there was a blue tint to the light and the sound of the rain took on a tinny quality, only adding to the ghostly feeling the planet instilled. The place was deserted, with only the sounds of the muted rain and her own breath for company. Moving swiftly from walkway to walkway she threaded her way closer to her goal. No sign of external cameras. Odd. Once at the mast building Karla heaved open an access hatch and lowered herself slowly to the deck.

No sooner had her feet touched the ground than she heard a the hollow pop of a silenced gunshot and felt a bullet slip between the plates of her midsection and explode out her back. She was so surprised that she didn't even yell. She just slumped against window of the walkway, leaving a bloody purple smear behind as she crumpled to her knees. The wound was not fatal, not yet, but she was in serious danger of bleeding out. A shimmer to her right caught her attention and quickly resolved into a distinctly salarian shape before Jelan Farsar stepped out of thin air. Karla watched him reload his rifle through waves of deep crimson pain.  
' _Single shot capacity_.' She thought with the detached manner that often came to her just before she lost consciousness. ' _That might come in useful later_.' Assuming there was a later for her.

"And just like that you loose. That didn't take long. I'm beginning to wonder if I am the only person in my sphere of sphere of interactions that is capable of considered action. Coming to Ilos with so few men was unwise, attempting such a clumsy infiltration alone was downright moronic."

Karla laughed weakly at the spectre but it quickly became a cough.  
"I'm pretty sure you're alone too. You are the last rogue spectre left. Why are you even here? What did I ever do to you? I don't work for that cloned machine-freak anymore, you must know that."

"I do. But you are an unpredictable variable D'mel, better to take you out of the running. That and you have something I want." The spectre's tone was conversational but he never stopped scanning his surroundings.

"You mean the other spectre? If you kill me you'll never find out where I'm holding him." Farsar's bright amber eyes narrowed at that.

"Excuse me?"

"Your friend Hessius, I've got him. He's safe but if you want him returned we'd better deal."

"Tiberia is alive?" Farsar rubbed a palm across his mouth, trying to adjust to this new information.

"Fine. Here is the deal: give me Tiberia and the T'soni girl and I'll let you and your men go unharmed. Does that sound fair?"

Karla blew out an exasperated breath.  
"Maybe coming here by myself wasn't my finest idea but I'm not stupid. The second you have what you want I can expect a shot in the back. I remember Amon Dervin, he helped you and now he's gone. Try harder, I need assurance not lies."

The spectre almost looked offended by that.  
"Correct me if I am wrong but I don't think I have ever lied to you. The first time we met I gave you a warning, our subsequent clash was simply a result of you failing to heed it."

Breathing was becoming more difficult, as was talking, but Karla forced herself to reply. If she played her cards right there was still a slim chance she could come out on top.

"So you're saying you'll keep your word?"

"I will. I want the girl for the same reasons you do; to gain an advantage over the infamous shadow broker."

"And you won't hurt her?"

The corners of Jelan's mouth twitched.  
"despite what you must think of me I have no interest in harming a child."

she pretended to think it over for a moment but really she had no option but to accept.  
"Fine. We'd stand a better chance if we worked together though."

Farsar turned to go but held back for a final comment.  
"I'm well aware but still not interested. Hamilton was a good man, an driven man, Faun was a good soldier, both of them were friends. In this game we are playing all of us have blood on our hands, but that doesn't mean I can forgive you. Feel free to try and crawl away, if I survive I'll be back to finish the job. If not then somebody should inform the council about this mess, make sure it's you."

The spectre activated his tactical cloak and began to dissipate into the shadows. At the last second Karla somehow found enough energy to yell and the vanishing figure.  
"Amelia doesn't have any blood on her hands, she's just a kid!"

Jelan Farsar was gone but his voice still echoed down the corridor.  
"Loosing innocence is a matter of time. If she turns out anything like her parents she will kill thousands before her time is done. Let me handle things from here D'mell, it's over for you."


	28. Final moves part 2 (Mexican standoff)

**Amelia**

Amelia was having the same old nightmare; the darkened park, the monster, the pounding in her chest. There were some different though; She was no longer fleeing through the woods instead the monster, Shepherd, was standing in front of her, beckoning. When she smiled there were green flames flickering behind her teeth. As with before the flames began to creep up the girl's legs, slowly consuming her. It didn't hurt in fact it felt good. She smiled back.

Amelia woke to the feeling of Beck shaking her. The round faced asari looked worried. More than worried, terrified.  
"Hey kid! Wake up."

Amelia moaned and tried to roll over but Beck was gripping her shoulders.  
"Mmh what?"

Beck looked about nervously before answering & spoke in a strained whisper.  
"I've heard from Karla. She wants you to meet someone who she says can lead you to your mother and... the other one." As she spoke she was pulling the younger asari into a sitting position and roughly bundling her into a waterproof jacket clearly intended for an adult.

"Stop it I'm not a baby."

"Shh! He'll be here soon we..." There was a rap on the door of the shuttle. Beck jumped, yanking the zip all the way up, trapping the tip of Amelia's pointed chin and making her yell.

Shh!" She said again. "Come... come in."

The door slid open with the hiss of heavy hydraulics. Felan Farsar was standing there, blinking away the rain as it poured into his big amber eyes.  
"Ah, Messana Beckyle if I'm not mistaken. We met once before as I am sure you remember. I trust there are no physical ill effects of our encounter?"

Beck lowered her gaze.  
"No sir, no physical effects." She felt sure the spectre could see right through her with those creepy orange eyes of his, right into her soul. There were times when she would wake at night and find that her thrashing had tangled her so tightly in the bedclothes that she could barely move. For a split second after waking she would think she was back there. In Karla's office, tied up with her face in the carpet, waiting for the spectre to ambush her friends.

Farsar cleared his throat, making Beck jump again.  
"I believe you have instructions to turn young Amelia over to me." He held out his hand as if the girl was a set of keys he might simply place into his pocket.

Nodding meekly Beck stood aside, allowing the spectre to sweep past her into the shuttle.  
"So Amelia, I imagine this must all be a little overwhelming for you. To be dragged into the world of violence and fear that your parents have inhabited for so long. Not quite what you had envisioned is it?" his tone was friendly but not patronising. Beck looked on worriedly. The girl was smiling faintly at Farsar's words, far more of a reaction than she had been able to coax from her. This salarian was good.  
"Now if you don't mind I would like you to follow me, I know where your mother is and I believe you may well be the key to ending this situation without further bloodshed."

 **Liara**

Liara had spent much of the day striding about the lab trying to make herself feel busy. That and she was putting on a show for the cameras. The previous shadow broker had operated under the bizarre assumption that no one else would ever gain access to his mainframe and had put no security measures in place. Liara was not so naive, she was well aware that Shepherd was slowly stripping away her digital defenses, worming her way into the data flow. Since their arrival the synthetic had not moved from the command centre, preferring to keep tabs on her using the internal surveillance system and occasionally checking in to ask if she had made any progress. Each time Liara had lied. She knew how to close Shepherd's connection to the mindscape but she also knew that would spell and end to her usefulness. She could only hold out hope that the spectres would play along with her desperate plan. That they would save her daughter. In the end that was all that mattered. She could not think back on recent events without Aethyta's parting words coming to mind:' _Pull up your big girl pants and go be the mother I know you can be_.' For all the good it did her to pay attention now.

The speaker mounted on the wall of the lab crackled into life.  
"Liara could you come here when you have a moment?"

There was something in Shepherd's tone that made Liara sit up and pay attention.  
' _She knows. She knows I have gone behind her back_.' It was a sobering thought. She knew she didn't have what it took to fend Shepherd off if she decided to get rid of her. ' _Out of time_.'

Liara took the most round about route she could think of to the command centre. The detour brought her round the living quarters and passed the communication dome. There, in the corridor between the two rooms, she found something utterly surprising. Karla D'mel lay slumped against the wall, clutching a ragged, bloody hole in her side. Her normally purple skin had paled to a dark pink due to loss of blood. The window behind her was smeared with bloody hand prints from where she had tried and failed to haul herself up. Seeing Liara approach Karla made one last fruitless attempt to move and forced a grim smile.

Before she could speak Liara grabbed her by the collar and slammed her shoulder blades against the wall painfully.  
"Where is Amelia!? Where is my daughter!?" Her biotics flared around them both as she yelled, causing drops of blood to lift off the ground. Karla's eyes went wide, not afraid but humbled perhaps.

"I thought the girl would make a good hostage. I'd blackmail you to get your cooperation then take down the Shepherd."

Liara let her drop, her anger temporarily dispelled by her racing mind.  
"You aren't working for her anymore?"

"Of course not. She went berserk, took out over a dozen of my best guys then did a runner. She's out of control, best thing to do is break her neck before she goes on another killing spree."

There was ice water in Liara's veins. Shepherd had been acting erratic true but to kill her? That was too extreme. She was not ready to give up on all her work, not while there was even a minuscule chance of success.  
"I won't let you." She said quietly.

Karla's grim smile widened at that. "So that's what this is really all about huh? Your dead ex?" She wheezed then laughed weakly at Liara's frown. "So you lost someone in the war, cry me a river. So did roughly a hundred billion other people, my boyfriend is dead because you sent us up against the spectres. So tell me little miss perfect; how many people need to die before you wake up and smell the- Ahhh!"

Liara knelt down next to the larger asari and placed a hand on her injury, pressing hard.  
"You will bleed out if you don't apply pressure here." She busied herself with adding a layer of medi-gel on top of the nasty gunshot wound. "I don't want you dead D'mel but I'm not sorry about your partner. Boreal was his name wasn't it? He was an amoral mercenary, just like you."

The hatred in Karla's eyes was beyond description. She whispered something in Sari that had no direct translation but meant literally: 'you have no soul.'

Liara straightened wearily and set off down the tunnel.  
"I suppose we'll see won't we."

 **Shepherd**

Shepherd sat alone in the command centre with her stolen shotgun resting across her knees. She ran a thumb over the gold plated barrel of the M-11 Wraith and considered what to do next. On one hand she was convinced that separation from the Reapers would finally allow her some sense of clarity. But on the other it looked like she was going to have to put up one hell of a fight to get what she wanted. Maybe it would be better for her to take the shuttle and jet off to the Terminus, indoctrinate a colony and live like a queen. It was a pleasant thought but the incessant nagging of her human memories balked at the idea. Shepherd had no doubt that she was capable of killing the persistent salarian but she was beginning to feel more that a little restricted. She just wanted to live free of the machinations of organics and machines. She had spent years defending the galaxy, let someone else take a turn. Maybe the next person would get some gratitude.

Shepherd didn't hear Liara enter but the static field she maintained around herself warned her of the asari's approach without having to look up. She just stood there, not saying anything. She must suspect.  
"Liara I want you to know something. when I reached out to you, offered you my life in exchange for a glimpse of the galaxy, I was completely genuine. I kidnapped you because I needed your help and I was afraid you would respond in the same way as your friend Yrenna. She didn't see me as a person and it seems you are not willing to treat me with any more respect. I know you sold me out to the spectres Liara."

"So you found out about that did you?" It wasn't Liara. There was a salarian standing in the doorway, in one hand he held the crucible orb and with the other he was gripping Amelia by the wrist.

Shepherd had no retort. From her recent studies of the shadow broker network her knew this salarian to be Jelan Farsar, citadel spectre and probable leader of the conspiracy that had been hounding her for the last several weeks. They had never met but his fingerprints were all over everything that was wrong about her current situation.

Shepherd pointed the shotgun at Farsar but he yanked Amelia in front of his torso and let the orb block his head.  
"Easy now. I don't think you want either of these things to get unduly damaged."

With a frustrated breath Shepherd let the gun fall to her side . She stood and began pacing around the two newcomers. Amelia stayed quiet, staring at her 'father' with a scared look in her round green eyes. Farsar was careful to keep the crucible between them, preventing her from getting the line of sight she would need to indoctrinate him effectively.

"Clever little frog."

"I will not claim to be holding all the cards but I hope you can see that I have enough of an advantage to be considered a threat." The spectre's voice was strained but Shepherd could not deny his point.

"I can."

"Then perhaps we can set aside pretense for a moment and discuss our options like a pair of intelligent adults."

Shepherd snorted with laughter but before she could say anything Liara hurried into the room her chest heaving as if she had been running. One glance around the room told her what she needed to know.

"Amelia!"

Everything happened at once: Liara took a step towards Amelia, Farsar tightened his grip making her wince, Shepherd adjusted her aim as the spectre's attention faltered. All three of them were ready to act but, seeing the others move in unison, drew back warily. Unsure of how to proceed each pair of eyes darted from one to the next, mistrustful amber to clear blue to artificial green.

"So." Said Shepherd "What should we do now?"


	29. A fairly definitive end

The silence stretched on uncomfortably. What had begun as a momentary pause pregnant with anticipation was quickly stagnating into suspicion and fear.  
Jelan Farsar sat back and waited for the response to his ultimatum.  
Liara blinked sweat out her eyes as she ran over plan after plan in her head. It was no good, she had no leverage over the spectre and could not cross the distance between them before he did something to Amelia.  
Shepherd just paced on the spot, her frustration visibly mounting. She was the first to speak.

"We could stand here until the three of you die of old age-"  
She lowered her stance with obvious hostile intent and performed a series of swift hand gestures faster than either of the others could react. In response to the physical mnemonics Shepherd's biotics flared in a complex pattern of dark energy fluctuations. Farsar and Liara were buffeted against the walls like leaves in a storm while Amelia was protected in a shimmering green bubble.

"-Or I could do that."

Farsar spat and tried to rise only to find himself pinned under his own enhanced weight. Liara on the other hand stood smoothly, doing her best not to let the effort of cancelling out Shepherd's biotics show on her face.

"An impressive outburst. I think it's fair to say you have exceeded my projections." They were just words. A basic stalling tactic to give herself time to think. Shepherd didn't seem to notice, she threw back her head and laughed like a child.

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you aren't being confined and experimented on like an animal."

She was clearly unstable that much had become obvious. What Liara was loathe to admit were the parallels to the clone they had fought together on the citadel all those years ago. The traitor Maya Brooks' plan had fallen prey to the age old problem of the nebulous middle step. Well that and underestimating Elizabeth Shepard. But had Liara's own scheme been any different?  
Step one: resurrect lost lover.  
Step two: unknown  
Step three: teary eyed reunion.  
Now, in the clarity of this decisive moment, it seem far from perfect.

Shepherd was fast but she telegraphed her movements so far in advance that even an elcor would be able to counter them if they knew what to expect. Luckily this time she tried for a simple curved throw. It was easy for Liara to turn this aside and riposte with a singularity that dragged in every piece of lab equipment in a five metre radius and threatened to crush the AI between them. Shepherd, like her human predecessor, favoured overwhelming force when it came to one on one combat. With a biotic pulse that Liara would have struggled to match even on her best day Shepherd send the debris tumbling back. Liara ducked to avoid a low flying biometric scanner just in time to see Shepherd charging towards her. She did the only thing she could and met her head on.

As the two biotics wrestled for dominance Farsar found that he was able to move again. Doing his best to ignore the bruising along his spine he turned his head to search the room. There, just out of arms reach was the crucible orb. No longer inert it cast a roiling green light across his face.

Salarian psychology held to the theory that the mind could be trained to layer it's thoughts, maintaining control despite instinct.  
Salarian scientists used it to compose complex theories quickly, STG agents used it to last under torture and spectres used it to ward off the mental stresses of their work. As a spectre Farsar had cultivated three levels of thought, an impressive feat of mental discipline even for a salarian.  
The first level comprised his surface thoughts and could only squirm in pain and curse the Reapers. But another deeper part of him (his spectre self) was looking at the orb and thinking: ' _Connectivity increases with physical proximity_.' The crucible reacted to Shepherd. He could use that.  
The final most serene level contained the thoughts of Jelan the man not Farsar the spectre. Since he had not yet regained command of his limbs he lay there for a moment and listened to this compartmentalised version of himself.

' _You have all the tools you need to accomplish your mission, to end the Reapers once and for all. All you need to do is forgive the asari. You need T'soni and D'mel_.' The thought surprised him. Jelan Farsar seldom said ' _need_ ' when he could say ' _use_.'

A light bulb went off in Jelan's brain. His middle layer, his spectre thoughts, had made a connection. The orb responded to the Shepherd in her current form to be sure but it had originally been created to mould the Reaper species. All this petty bickering and infighting had accomplished nothing. No one had thought to make use of this new crucible in the same way as the original. Maybe he could be the one. Why not? Jelan Farsar doing what even Commander Shepard could not.  
With this idea it fuel him he managed to get his left arm out from under his torso and begin dragging his non-responsive legs across the floor. The orb felt along way off.

Meanwhile the biotic deadlock was quickly turning in Shepherd's favour. She just kept battering on Liara's barrier again and again, keeping her firmly on the back foot. Even low level biotics were draining after a short while and Liara had been forced to resort to some costly tricks to last even this long. When they had clashed back at the Thessian apartment Shepherd had been fighting to incapacitate rather than kill. Now she was holding nothing back. Even as she fought for her life a small part of Liara could not help but marvel at her creation. Standing there with her arms outstretched, red hair flying, aglow with green energy, Shepherd really did have a spark of Ellie's old fire. Just not the parts that mattered.

Capitalising on her momentary distraction Shepherd drove Liara to her knees with a two handed blow to the jaw. Liara closed her eyes and braced for a final hit that never came. Farsar had crawled his way over to the orb. With a swing of his free arm he batted at it, sending it rolling over the tiles to tap Shepherd on the tip of one of her hospital slippers. When killing blow failed to fall Liara opened her eyes to see Shepherd looking down in surprise. Her first instinct was to retaliate with violence but then she realised this was a chance to end the confrontation decisively while her opponent's defences were down.

In the few seconds afforded her by Farsar's distraction Liara activated her omni-tool. She had been working on the crucible's specs earlier that very day and the command interface was still open. Without the command cradle the device's range would be severely limited but it was physically touching Shepherd so she doubted that would be a problem. All it took were a few keystrokes to activate the shutdown code she had used during their first disastrous attempt to confine Shepherd in a body.

'Well _Shepherd is about to get her wish, complete separation from the Reapers. Hopefully at the cost of some brain damage or at least loss of consciousness_.'

Shepherd contorted and fell. Suddenly they were at eye level with one another and Liara could see the fear in her eyes. The code would shut her off from the Reaper mindscape and eventually eliminate all higher brain function but to do so safely would take time. Time she didn't have. Even in her human form her mental defences were still formidable. The shut down process would require near constant monitoring to prevent her from wriggling out of the psychological prison she was constructing. Without the algorithms on the lab computers is was a daunting task.  
Shepherd's breath was coming in quick panicked bursts as she tried to summon enough power to warp the orb in front of her. The glowing emerald energy around her fist sputtered and died.

Liara struggled to one knee and put a hand on Shepherd's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry. I hoped this might end differently but I'll never let you endanger me or my family again."  
She removed her hand and returned her attention to the omni-tool.

Shepherd gazed up at her former captor though tears of pain, her head felt like it was about to split open. "Amelia help me!"

"Amelia?" Liara looked round in confusion. The girl was swaying in place. She was no longer surrounded by the barrier but her expression was blank and unresponsive.

Liara ran to her daughter's side and hugged her tightly, Shepherd temporarily forgotten. After so long apart it felt good just to be close to her, to know she was finally safe.

A click from bellow Liara's line of sight drew her focus downwards. Amelia had unclipped the outdated predator pistol from her makeshift bandoleer and was holding it in a steady grip. The tip of the barrel bumped gently against Liara's breast.

"Sweetie, give that to me." She held out a hand. "Please."

Amelia's green eyes played across her mother's face without seeming to see.

The shot was deafening in the enclosed space, it seemed to echo for far longer than was natural.

Liara stumbled, blood gushing from her mouth. She barely felt any pain at all. Through the swimming haze of shock she became aware of someone behind her. They looked so familiar, could it be-?  
Shepherd shook off the effects of the mind prison and roared to her feet, blasting Liara with the strongest wave of ultrasound she could muster.

"Ellie please I only wanted to-"

Shepherd stepped forward and caught her before she could hit the ground, pinning her in a surprisingly strong grip. Liara was oblivious. In that moment, with her life's blood pooling around her all she felt was calm. She did look so very like her. Liara relaxed into the hold and closed her eyes, letting Shepherd unintentionally cradle her head against her chest. The anger behind her eyes ebbed and when she spoke it seemed to be with Shepard's voice.

Liara was aware she was dying, she knew this was a hallucination. It didn't matter.  
"Shhh. I know and its okay, none of that matters anymore. Let's just be in the moment."

So they sat there. Liara closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her false bondmate's heartbeat, basking in the feeling, however false. All the while her breath became more and more ragged until it stopped all together.

Liara T'soni let out a long contented sigh as her heart stopped.

As soon as the moment passed Shepherd stood and let Liara's body fall to the floor heavily. Her face was emotionless, cold.


	30. Beyond

The door to the captain's quarters of the Normandy SR1 was locked. Lieutenant-commander Elizabeth Shepard was lying sideways across the bed, her head resting in the lap of a young asari woman. Liara was stroking Shepard's hair, just enjoying the unfamiliar alien feeling of the red locks flowing through her fingers.

"What are you thinking about Elizabeth?" She asked absentmindedly then suddenly stopped stroking, a worried expression creasing her forehead. "I can call you Elizabeth can't I?"

Shepard's upside down face split into one of her rare, self-confident, smiles. Her green eyes possessed a twinkle that was both mischievous and kind.  
"Don't you think 'Shepard' would be a little formal after what we just did?"

When Liara's expression remained confused Shepard laughed. Now that she thought about it this might have been the first time she heard the sound. It was deep and throaty but also comforting like a warm bath.

"Sex Liara, I'm talking about sex."

For some strange reason Liara still blushed more at the word than from the act itself.  
"Oh... well I didn't want to presume... no one else seems to call... goddess I'm so awkward." She mumbled quietly to herself but stopped halfway through when Shepard sat up and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

"It's fine, I love it. You're so cute. Ellie is fine by the way."

The intellectual part of Liara wanted to tell herself to stop acting like a lovesick little girl but she could not help it; her heart skipped a beat when Shepard said the word _love_. As Ellie moved to sit on the edge of the bed Liara whispered the name under her breath as if she had just been told a great secret. "Ellie."

She watched shyly as Shepard stood to quickly and efficiently change out of the band tour t-shirt she was wearing and into her usual military fatigues.  
"So, um, what were you thinking?"

Ellie paused to look over her shoulder at Liara before pulling the navy blue top down over her head.  
"I was thinking about how lucky I am."

An indeterminate amount of time passed in a golden blur. They were in danger on a daily basis but Liara was also blissfully happy. When the stream of events slowed to there normal pace they were back in bed in the captain's quarters.

"Does my age bother you?" Liara asked quietly.

Ellie raised her head to look at her, blinking the sleep from her eyes.  
"Hm?"

"I am only one hundred and six."

Shepard didn't laugh often but today was Liara's lucky day (or however long it had been). Liara savoured each time it happened, more and more lately. She found it endlessly reassuring.  
"Oh no! Does that mean I'm the responsible one?"

"I'm serious."

The smile faded instantly. "Sorry. No it doesn't bother me, I guess it means we get to work things out together. I'm not saying this-" She gestured between the two of them. "-Has to turn into anyting serious but if it does... well I grew up on the streets of Shanghai and Vancouver. I've never rented a house, had a pet, any of that stuff. It might be nice to do it as a couple."

Liara beamed with unabashed happiness for a few seconds before a thought caused a cloud to pass over her face.  
"This is a dream isn't it?" She held her breath, afraid that the realisation would end the memory prematurely.

Shepard didn't smile back but her green eyes did crinkle kindly at the corners.  
"Of course it is. I've been dead for over twenty years Liara."

It was a strange thing but hearing this from the mouth of her bondmate brought a kind of strange calm over her. A sound halfway between a choke and a laugh escaped her chest.  
"I suppose this is where my subconscious tells me to let you go?"

Shepard was back to her serious self when Liara looked up at her. She remembered overhearing Joker referring to this persona as ' _battle Shepard_.'  
The part of the otherwise compassionate woman that could shoot down Exogeni executives that got in her way, condemn hundreds of thousands of batarians to death in the name of a greater good and talk her enemies into killing themselves without apparent effort. It was a part of her lover Liara had never tried too hard to get close to or understand. In truth she was scared of it's raw intensity. To have ' _battle Shepard_ ' staring her down was an intimidating prospect, even in a dream.

"It couldn't hurt." Shepard sat up straight. She seemed calm, serene. "I understand why you did it Liara: you were a young woman who had lost her first love and found herself in a position of power. If I had the ability to bring back some of the people I've lost I can't honestly say I'd have more discretion than you. But that doesn't make it right."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Put it right Doctor T'soni. You can consider that an order."

 _N/B: The idea of 'Battle Shepard' is not my own, it comes from a story I read many years ago. If anyone knows which one I would happily credit the original author. Also let me know if this chapter seems a little sentimental or ham-fisted._


	31. Back to life

Someone was whispering in Liara's ear, or were they shouting from very far away? It was impossible to tell. All around was darkness but she could make out a figure approaching, an asari. Was she dead? Had Benezia returned from the embrace of the cosmic oneness to guide her?

"Mother?" She said, reaching out with both hands.

The figure snorted. "B-bitch please."

Right. Definitely not Benezia then. "Who are you, what is going on?"

Another snort. "How should I know? Just open your eyes and we can get going."

That sounded like a good idea, so she did. The pain hit Liara like a physical blow directly to the brain. It hurt so much that it was beyond her ability to metaphorise. That mercenary (D'mel?) was standing over her clutching her own wounded side with one hand and clumsily trying to administer a syringe of morphine to Liara's neck with the other. She grunted as the needle pierced her jugular only to sigh as the fast acting painkiller took effect.

"You saved my life."

"Don't remind me. I still owe the shadow broker a beating for that Maitrum stunt but I guess I can put that behind me for the time being. Besides you're a lot younger than I thought. How old are you exactly?"

Liara was too woozy to process that so instead she focused on sitting upright without passing out.  
"I need to leave. Regroup."

"Not just yet. I'm on the verge of having a moment here, try not to ruin it. How old are you?"

"I'm one hundred and thirty four. Why..?" She could not even muster the energy to finish the thought.

"I think I might have been judging you unfairly. I've held a grudge against the broker for hundreds of years, turns out you weren't even born when all that was going down."

On her feet now, Liara tottered sideways and found a perch on an overturned workbench.  
"Well in that case we should just chalk it up to a misunderstanding."

Karla scratched her nose and put a hand on her hip, her eye narrowed.  
"We don't know each other so it's kinda hard to tell if you're joking."

Feeling a little steadier now Liara massaged her scalp and took several deep breaths before replying.  
"I was being facetious yes. I know my predecessor did some questionable things to you but that is in the past. I had my own issues with the former broker. He didn't die easily."

There was that rare look in Karla's eye again: humbled respect.  
"Well... good."

Liara sniffed the air and stood. She felt in control once more.  
"I'm ready to reconsider your perspective. The Shepard I knew is gone. All that remains is to put down this pale imitation. Whatever our differences we stand the best chance of success if we pool our efforts. Are you with me?"

"Well yeah. Hell yeah." Karla's sudden enthusiasm faded briefly as she glanced over her shoulder. "What about him?"

Liara followed her gaze to the far side of the room where Jelan Farsar sat slumped against the wall, cuffed to an upright pipe. She had a hard time imagining a brawler like D'mel taking down a thinker like Farsar even if they were both wounded.

"What happened while I was... out?"

"Well I started to drag my sorry self across the base before I remembered that I brought back up for a reason. My guys are bringing a shuttle around. To answer your question I'd say we took one step forwards and then two steps back. Whatever you did to Shepherd f-fucked it up, badly. Good news: it's on the back foot. Bad news: it grabbed the girl and ran. They'll be off planet by now."

Liara seemed to spend all her time these days swinging between red hot rage and ice cold conviction. She wasn't quite sure which one she felt upon hearing that Amelia was gone yet again.  
"I see."

"Not sure what that cyborg freak will do next but I'd rather not give it anymore of a head start than it already has. We should gather our forces as soon as possible. Which leaves the question of what to do with the spectre. We could off him, or wake him up and interrogate if you prefer."

The older asari was being surprisingly deferential but Liara chalked it up to a desire cement their new alliance. Instead of responding Liara approached the unconscious figure of Jelan Farsar. A soft kick to the side was all it took to get him to stir. Perhaps due to his salairan biology he seemed to regain his faculties much faster than she had. He blinked his big amber eyes a few times and glanced from Liara to Karla and back again.

"Well, it looks like I've attracted a fan club. Maybe I should stop making a habit of alienating dangerous asari." There was very little humour in his voice.

Karla bristled. "Just be glad you're talking to her and not me. I'd be leading the conversation with the tip of my boot."

That got a genuine chortle out of Farsar. "Good cop bad cop? Please tell me you at least have something worthwhile to add to this T'soni."

Liara crouched next to him and watched as his the lump in his throat worked up and down, testing his bravado with a steady stare. "Work with us."

He laughed again. "You know, I had this whole plan laid out whereby I would slowly wear down your resolve only to manipulate you into seeing my viewpoint. Then you strip all that away with only three words. I am ashamed. You would have made one hell of a spectre. I'll work with you, assuming our mutual mercenary friend is willing to tolerate my presence."

"Uncuff him." Said Karla squaring her shoulders and stuffing her clenched fists into her jacket pockets.

Seeing no reason to object Liara obliged. Farsar had not even fully regained his feet before Karla floored him with a left hook to the side of his head.  
"Yeah. I can tolerate him."

After taking some time to compose themselves and tend to their various injuries the trio gathered in the lab's control centre. Liara sat at her desk and tried to piece Shepherd & Amelia's route using fragmented security footage. Shepherd hadn't killed her, being severed from the mindscape must have triggered some kind of fight or flight reaction.

Farsar sat in a swivel chair with his back to a wall. His expression seemed to hint that he found the whole situation slightly amusing. Liara refused to rise to it but Karla broke the silence in short order.

"Okay between the smug p-prick super spy and the goddess of dirty secrets I can't help but feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know what is really going on around here. Like who are you spectre? Why have you involved yourself in this?"

Farsar let his smile fade. "I didn't think explanations were necessary. I assumed you had already pieced things together."

Karla shook her head and glowered rattily. "Yeah well I haven't."

He shifted his gaze to Liara. "And you?"

"Some. But I wouldn't mind hearing the whole story from your lips. It would go a long way towards helping us decide whether or not we can trust you."

Farsar rubbed the bruise on the right side of his face gingerly.  
"If you didn't trust me you should have left me tied to that pipe in the laboratory."

Karla answered for her. "I trust you to help get the job done. Afterwards you have no reason not to turn round and shoot me in the head like you did Shrub Velik."

"Who?"

Her hands quickly balling into fists once more, Karla forced herself to sit down rather than act on her overpowering urge to throttle the spectre.  
"The salarian you killed on Illium. My friend."

She caught a glimpse of what might have been empathy on Farsar's face before he brought up his barriers and reinstalled a look of complete neutrality.  
"All of us in this room have hurt one another. I don't see how digging that up will serve us now. We have all lost people we care about chasing the Shepherd. But If we are going to share I might as well go first."

Karla seemed at least slightly placated and Liara shut her terminal down to give the salarian her undivided attention.

"Shortly after the end of the Reaper war the Shepherd revealed itself to the galaxy and declared it's intentions to enforce a 'benevolent dictatorship' on all species that signed the armistice. As if we had a choice."

"That's hardly fair." Liara said, surprising even herself. "Shepherd offered refugees aid, technological advances and peacekeeping. There hasn't been a raid on the Attican Traverse since she took over. That and she didn't directly involve herself in the affairs of any individual race. I'd say she did an acceptable job... until I interfered."

Farsar waited politely for several seconds to see if she was going to continue.  
"Ms D'mel asked for my version of events. Not everyone was happy to have a race of standoffish AIs stunt our growth and development. But not everyone choked under Shepherd's regime I'm aware. Just because one cannot see the wall of their prison cell does not mean it's not there. Besides the thickest walls are often built in the mind. May I continue?"

Liara made a gesture to indicate she would not interrupt again.

"The council charged about a third of the entire spectre force with going off-grid and finding a way to subvert the Reapers as stealthily as possible. This was all before my time of course but I hear they made some real headway before a few of the agents were nearly exposed. The armistice forbids research into indoctrination or attempting to reverse engineer Reaper technology. The council apparently deemed the risk of reigniting the war too great and ordered all agents involved to return to the citadel for debriefing."

"And did they?" Asked Karla.

"Of course not. They were the best of the best and had been charged with saving all live in the galaxy. Not only that but they were actually getting it done. To be asked to throw all that away by some politician who had never been in danger in his life-. Would you have? It was the largest act of insubordination in the council's history since the krogan rebellions. The entire remaining roster was dispatched to 'retire' the traitors. It was messy but they did it and the galaxy was none the wiser."

Liara spoke up again despite herself. "Even I haven't heard of any 'spectre war.' Impressive."

"Well the point of all this is that the idea of acting against the Reapers fell radically out of favour for a long time. Eventually the Shepherd's yoke became tight enough that a much smaller group of spectres was summoned to the council chambers to attend a private session."

Liara's eyes lit up at the prospect of such coveted secret information. "Who was there?"

"Myself, Chester Hamilton, Faun Raffin, Tiberia Hessius and Tvark Janid from the agency. Only Victoria Mendez the human councillor was there to give orders, I don't know if the others were involved. She wasn't interested in giving us specific instructions, the ultimate in plausible deniability. We were sanctioned to act outside council authority to 'redress the balance of galactic power.' As long everything we did was in the council's interests we would not be bothered by trivialities. So I set my sights on the Shepherd. But how does one set about subverting a mind such as that? I arranged the Sur'kesh bombing and the Tuchanka coup just to distract it, admittedly to limited effect."

"So where did I fit in? Clearly you took an interest in my research at some point."

Farsar nodded to Liara. "I had been aware of the experiments you and doctor Vatae Yrenna were conducting for some time. I'll admit I held out little hope that you would be successful. But then you surprised us all by doing exactly what you set out to do. As for you D'mel I truly didn't foresee you making it this far."

"Strange bedfellows. Ever since it came to 'life' Shepherd has done it's best to pp-piss off everyone they come across. I know from experience that a person can only make so many enemies before it catches up with you."

The spectre looked quizzically at Karla as she said this. "You seem to have picked up a speech impediment since we last met." She shifted uncomfortably at having this pointed out so openly.

"I got zapped with some indoctrination mojo when Shepherd slipped away from me in the Terminus. Guess it's wearing off."

Farsar slipped out of his chair and approached Karla with interest. She opened her mouth to add something but before she could he shined a light from his omni-tool directly into her eye.

"Gah! I wish people would stop doing that!"

"I'm sorry but this bares investigation. Reaper indoctrination does not simply 'wear off.' Perhaps Shepherd's compulsions are not as powerful as she would like us to believe."

Rubbing her eye socket fiercely Karla stood as well.  
"Right... you mull that over then. Meanwhile we should really get moving. Unless you need me to spout my life story as well? You'd think the shadow broker and a spectre would already know everything they needed about me."

A slight smirk tugged at the corners of Farsar's mouth. "Everything relevant yes. You are right in any case, we should at least formulate a plan of action. Doctor T'soni: do you have any clue as to where our quarry might have fled?"

Liara stroked her chin thoughtfully, taking her time with a reply.  
"This entire time Shepherd's goal has been to attain self determination. She has that now. But I suspect she failed to anticipate the degree of vulnerability that came with it. She has been severed from the mindscape and with it the source of much of her power. She is exposed, assuming we can find her there could not be a better time to finish her. She is far from helpless however. If I had to guess I would say that she is scared and looking to regain her power, if only temporarily. I can think of only one place to go if you want to contact as many Reapers as possible."

"The citadel." Farsar's face lit up with sudden understanding. Karla just looked confused.

"Would Shepherd throw away it's free will after going so far to get it?"

Liara stood to join the others, forming a circle in the middle of the room. "Nobody said AIs were incapable of hypocrisy. Besides you should always be careful what you wish for." Shifting tacks quickly she adopted a more business-like tone. "How many men can you muster before we hit the citadel?"

Karla's expression was not encouraging. "Six." Farsar scoffed loudly but Liara, hoping to avoid more confrontation, just sighed.

"Right. How about you? I don't suppose there are any more spectres sympathetic to our cause? Or maybe you could leverage some help from the council."

The salarian shook his head wearily. "Plausible deniability remember. As far as Mendez is concerned I'm dead to her until I come up with some results."

"Well luckily for you the shadow broker still has some resources under their belt. I'll have some operatives meet us at the citadel, hold on."  
As she was saying this Liara's omni-tool buzzed as an encrypted message came in. She tapped accept and read, an increasing feeling of numb panic spreading out from her stomach.

 _'This is the shadow broker to all agents,_  
 _The Reapers have compromised my network. prepare for final instructions then go off grid, as deep as you can.  
Assume any future contact is a ruse to lure you into the open._  
 _Many of you have given me years of service and I must say it's been a pleasure.  
_ _Shadow broker out.'_

"Goddess." Ignoring the questioning glances from her new compatriots she ran back to her desk and punched up the security footage of the mess in the comm centre. Liara, Farsar and Shepherd had entered, spoken briefly then attacked each other. Farsar passed out, Liara 'died' then Shepherd grabbed the stunned Amelia by the hand and dragged her through to the command centre. Shepherd spent less than a minute tapping at the terminal but Liara was in no doubt: She had been bugged. The timing of the message was too perfect.

"Change of plans. It looks like I won't be able to muster much in the way of reinforcements. Shepherd has control of my network."

Karla looked like she was about to force out another stammered swear but ended up just pursing her lips.  
"So you're useless. What about you lizard boy? Still nothing?"

"Plausible. Deniability."

"Right. So it's just the three of us plus my half dozen stragglers versus a super powered AI psychopath. Great."

"This is not necessarily a disadvantage. We are all accustomed to working in small teams of three or four and this way there is less chance of tipping off our arrival." Farsar seemed to be doing his best to force a positive tone. "I wasn't able to find the orb so it stands to reason Shepherd took it, if only to keep it out of our hands since she cannot activate it. I believe the crucible still holds the solution to this whole affair. Killing the Shepherd must remain our focus but that doesn't change the fact that the Reapers are once again free to act as they wish. The time has come to redress the balance of the galaxy once more, just as commander Shepard did decades ago. the status quo cannot remain unchanged after this. One way or another.

Karla shrugged. "Fine. You point the way, I'll shoot anything that moves."

It was Liara who had the last word.  
"My office is bugged so Shepherd is likely listening to everything we say. We will come up with a tactical plan in the shuttle, meanwhile I would like to request a stop on the way to the citadel. If we are going to be fighting Reapers then I have an old friend who's help we cannot do without."


End file.
